


Supernova

by NalgeneWhore



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - The Martian Fusion, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Multi, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23540995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NalgeneWhore/pseuds/NalgeneWhore
Summary: A rogue storm had her presumed dead and stranded on the red planet. Left on her own, astronaut Aelin Galathynius has four years to make it to the next drop-site, some two thousand miles. Armed with her smarts and dwindling supplies, Aelin attempts to survive on an inhospitable planet, when the nearest help is only millions of miles away.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys/Nehemia Ytger, Lysandra/Nesryn Faliq
Comments: 92
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

_ Fuck this entire planet _ , Aelin Galathynius thought to herself as yet another bead of sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. She wished she could wipe her brow, the stupid cooling system in her space suit was nothing in comparison to the blazing sun.  _ Stupid planet, stupid planet with no atmosphere _ . 

It wasn’t just the sun, the piece of machinery she held was worth more than her entire life and with Fenrys Marama cracking jokes over the comms, she was not paying as much attention as she should. “I really hope that  _ penetration _ test goes well for you, Ace. Is the core still  _ soft _ ?”

Despite herself, she huffed a laugh, “I’ll have you know that the CPT is no joke and this is serious science.”

“Oh, please,” his cocky voice crackled through the headset, “your engineering degree’s in dirt.”

Lorcan Salvaterre, from where he was helping Aelin steady the drill for the core penetration test, rolled his eyes but stayed silent, wanting to know where the argument was leading. The blonde astronaut was quick to reply, “ _ Geotechnical  _ and it’s soil, Mr. Fancy Aerospace Engineer. Isn’t your job today confirming that the FAV is still upright?”

Dry laughter was heard from their other crew members and Fenrys bit back, “Actually, it’s visual inspection of mission vehicles.” He paused for a second, “I’m very happy to report that on base inspection, the FAV is in good shape and yes, it’s still upright, dipshit.”

Before Aelin could speak, their commander cut in, “If you guys stopped leaving your comms open, we could all be exempt from the truly witty commentary.”

She frowned down at Lorcan Salvaterre, the mission leader and mechanical engineer, sticking her tongue out at her friend who smirked in response. A gentle, cool voice spoke up, “Happy to shut them off from here, Salvaterre.”

The golden-haired man child squawked in protest, “Hey! Radios are our only way of communication on this inhospitable planet-“

“Shut them off, Faliq.” The next thing Aelin heard was a slight static and then complete silence. “Oh, this is nice,” Lorcan said, the only person who could speak now. “We need fifty samples, G, one hundred grams each.”

Since her radio had been cut, she could only give him a thumbs up and focused on the task at hand. After a few minutes, the radio crackled back to life, Nesryn’s voice tight with worry, “Commander… you’re gonna want to see this.”

Lorcan’s head lifted up and he turned to look at the surface habitat, like their mission’s system operator could see him, “What is it, Faliq?”

A shiver of nervous energy straightened Aelin’s spine and she stopped the drill, her brow furrowing and her hands becoming clammy.

“Mission update. Storm warning.”

“I saw that on this morning’s briefing, we’ll be inside before it hits.”

“Storm’s gonna be a lot worse, estimate says to prepare for emergency departure.” Aelin breathed sharply as Lorcan exhaled, turning to look over her head at the horizon, his dark eyes calculating. “Commander?”

When his eyes slid to Aelin’s, she felt her heart drop. They were fucked. “Everyone inside the hab. Now.”

All crowded around Nesryn’s computer, staring at the screen where the words, ‘Abort mission’ flashed across it underneath the storm estimate, tension was high. Hardly anybody dared to breathe as the dark-haired computer engineer read the update, “…eleven-hundred kilometres in diameter…”

“That’s heading straight for us,” said Rowan Whitethorn, the mission doctor, tapping his finger on the screen and tracing the trajectory. “What’s the estimate force, Nes?”

The beginnings of the storm shook the structure and Aelin saw Elide Lochan’s - resident chemist - eyes narrow for a second before a mask of indifference settled over her features, even as she hooked her pinky around Lorcan’s, the black diamond ring on her left-hand glinting. They shared a small smile that made Aelin’s heart ache, but now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things. They had a mission to worry about, she could fret over her aching soul later, Aelin chastised herself as her gaze flicked to the green-eyed man across the desk from her.

“Ninety-two thousand Newtons,” Nesryn all but whispered, her voice aghast.

Lorcan swore, tangling the remainder of his fingers with Elide’s and squeezing, “What’s the abort force?”

“Seventy-five thousand,” Fenrys read, his brows wrinkled with worry as he ran his hand over his short hair, brushing it forward into the wave pattern like he did when he was stressed, “any higher and the FAV will tip.”

“We’re scrubbed?” asked Aelin, worrying her bottom lip, the voice of her mother telling her not to do that sounding in her mind. All her life’s work, the  _ whole _ crew’s life’s work just gone. The mission they’d worked themselves ragged for, over. Just like that. She wasn’t ashamed of the tears that pricked her eyes.

Red letters flashed across the screen,  _ Prepare for emergency departure _ .

Elide’s calming voice brought the crew back, as she stepped away from Lorcan and leaned over the computer, analyzing what was on the screen, “Maybe it won’t be as bad as they say, they’re estimating a significant margin of error.”

Everyone turned to Lorcan, in the end – it was his call to make. Aelin nodded in agreement with Elide’s words, “Let’s wait it out.” His face was emotionless as his eyes shuttered, that mind of his running through each scenario he could think of. “Let’s wait it out,” she repeated.

They waited with bated breath until Lorcan shook his head once, “Prepare for emergency departure.”

“But-“

“That’s an order, G.” No one commented on the barely heard words, a look of mourning on Lorcan’s face. “We’re scrubbed.”

Debris struck the sides of the airlock tunnel as Nesryn pulled down the latch of the door, “Ready, Commander.”

Everyone turned to Lorcan, their suits and headlamps on. “Visibility is almost zero, stay together and if you get lost, follow my suit’s telemetry,” he indicated the bio-monitor on his arm with which they could home in on each other’s location and other various functions, “Wind picks up further from the hab, so be prepared.”

The airlock door opened and the six astronauts struggled further into the sandstorm, each step requiring full body effort. The three women tucked behind the men, keeping close, hands on oxygen regulators.

Through the screaming sound of the storm, they heard metal creaking – the Farnor Ascent Vehicle. Aelin stepped out from behind Lorcan, barely able to see her fellow crewmembers. “We need to shore up the FAV,” she yelled, hardly able to hear her own voice. If it somehow tipped, without them in it to launch, they would never get it up again.

“How,” Fenrys asked, his voice straining above the storm as he pushed along, Elide close behind him.

“We can-“ Aelin screamed as something ripped free from the habitat structure and crashed into her, lifting her off the ground and throwing her out of sight.

“Aelin!” Elide’s scream pierced the monotony of the whirling debris. Everyone froze, looking to where they had last seen her.

“What happened?”

“Something hit her and she was just gone, she flew west,” Elide cried, her voice shaking. That was her oldest friend, her  _ sister _ -

“Galathynius, report.”

Nothing but static. Nesryn looked down at her bio-monitor, pressing on Aelin’s suit button. “Her suit’s offline, I don’t know-“

“ _ Galathynius, report _ ,” Lorcan’s voice broke and again, nobody answered him.

“Her decompression alarm went off,” Rowan said, “she has less than a minute.”

Lorcan’s stomach dropped, “Shit, ok, ok, Marama, get to the FAV and prepare for launch, everyone else, home in on Lochan.”

As Fenrys took off to the rocket, leaving Elide to face the storm herself, she stumbled, “I can’t see anything.” Slowly, too slowly, the remaining crewmembers struggled their way to her and huddled together.

“We’re gonna line up and walk west. Small steps, she’s probably prone and we don’t want to step on her,” said Lorcan, his voice raised. They nodded, confirming the plan and set out, eyes wide open, hands out as precaution in case… they tripped over her body. “Doc, report on Galathynius.”

Rowan read the information on his suit’s computer, “Faliq, her bio-monitor sent something, a ‘raw packet’-“

“Yeah, I got that,” Nesryn confirmed, reading what the others couldn’t. “BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2.”

“Copy. Blood pressure, 0, pulse rate, 0, temperature, 32.6.”

“Temp’s normal,” Elide commented, confusion clouding her mind, “why is her temp normal.” It wasn’t a question.

As realization set in, Rowan paled, “It takes a while for, it takes a while for the body to… cool. Blood’s still hot.” At that, everyone stopped, whirling to Rowan where he flanked Nesryn and Elide.

“Commander,” Fenrys’ voice crackled over the radio, “we’re tilting to nine degrees, with wind pushing to eleven. It’ll tip at twelve.”

“If it tips, can you launch before it hits the ground?”

The pilot hesitated, “Uh… yes, sir, I can take manual control.”

“Copy that, everyone, get to Marama. Prepare for launch.”

Nesryn started, “What about you, Commander?”

“I’m going to keep looking, get to the FAV.” Nobody moved, Elide’s eyes wider than ever before and filled with tears. “ _ Now _ .”

“You really think I’m leaving you behind,” Fenrys asked, his voice breaking. “Lor-“

“I just ordered you to, now get moving,” Lorcan said, in a tone that brook no arguments. When they still didn’t move, he cursed, “Fucking hell, I said  _ go _ .”

With that, Nesryn and Elide tucked behind Rowan as they made their way to the FAV.

Once they were in the airlock and had pressurized the vehicle, Elide swore, low and in Blackbeak, “ _ Dilo, _ what is he doing.” She was the first up into the cabin next to Fenrys, eyes on her fiancé’s telemetry, “He’s going too slow, he won’t be able to find her in time.” Nesryn and Rowan climbed up into the cabin and the silver-haired man was nearly shaking, eyes wide.

“Commander, we’re at 11.5 degrees, you need to get back here-“

“Faliq, can you use the proximity radar to find her?”

“It only works for metal, there’s not a single piece of metal on any of our suits.” Defeat bled through her voice.

“Copy. Give it a try,” Lorcan told her, still determined to leave no being behind.

“Lorcan, I know you don’t want to hear this,” said Elide, “but Galathy… Aelin’s dead.”

“Try the fucking radar.”

Fenrys shot Elide a look, “The fuck is wrong with you, Lochan?”

Her dark eyes were unreadable and she strapped herself into her acceleration seat, “My sister is dead, I don’t want my fiancé dead too.”

Their pilot went silent at that and turned his eyes back to the controls, “Negative on the radar, Commander.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lorcan muttered, groaning in frustration and desperation. He was grasping at straws; they all knew it. “Nothing?”

Rowan had gone silent in his seat next to Elide and he offered her a bleak look, tight-lipped, when she reached over and squeezed his hand, no words to say. Everyone knew what had been between Aelin and Rowan, except for maybe themselves. Nesryn shook her head, “It can barely see the hab, there’s not enough-“

The FAV let out a screeching sound as it tipped more and Fenrys barked out, “Commander, you need to get back to the ship now. I got one more trick and then we’re fucked.”

Silence on the comms. Fenrys tried again, “Commander-“

“Copy that,” Lorcan bit out. “How far?”

“11.9”

Elide spoke, “Salvaterre, Galathynius is gone. We need to get out of here.”

Lorcan said not a word. Finally, Nesryn pleaded, “Lorcan, she’s gone, ok? We need you here.”

“Roger that,” his voice was defeated, “on my way.”

Despite themselves, they all let out a relieved sigh, breath they didn’t know they were holding. Maybe a minute later, the airlock whooshed and Lorcan appeared, staying dead silent and not meeting anyone’s eyes as he strapped himself in next to Fenrys. “Prepared for launch.”

“Roger that, Commander.”

The ship began to shake as Fenrys blasted the jets, pulling them up and out of the storm. The only words spoken were from the control system, marking every one-hundred metre mark they reached.

Half an hour later, they were docking on their rocket station, named The Lani, after the goddess of dreams – their expedition The Matron , phase two of a three-part mission. Once they had completed the post-boarding instructions, Lorcan spoke, rubbing his eyes as his shoulders slumped, “We’re done for the day, don’t worry about logs or the mission. I’ll, um, I’ll send a report.”

Everyone nodded and dispersed, grim looks on their faces. Lorcan stayed behind, leaning against the wall of the airlock. Elide waited by him, cupping the side of his neck and stroking her thumb over his jaw as it feathered and he dragged his eyes to hers. “I’m sorry.”

She just shook her head, indicating she wouldn’t speak of it now, “Not now, love.” Her lip trembled, her face crumpling before Lorcan tugged her against him and cradled the back of her head. She cried silently into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. All he could do was bury his face in her hair and whisper his apology, his heart splintering in his chest.

It was late. The other crewmembers were in their sleep-cabins, mourning the loss of their friend, no. Not  _ friend _ , family. Their family was broken now. Lorcan was still up, sitting in the central area, staring at the blinking cursor on the computer.

With a heavy sigh, he began to type the report to the flight and crew director, Manon Blackbeak.

_ Blackbeak, _

_ Mission Specialist Aelin Galathynius is presumed dead after being struck by debris during the storm late this afternoon on Farnor, day 18 of our 31-day stay. The remaining crewmembers were forced to abort the mission. Awaiting mission directions. _

_ Commander Salvaterre _

After sending it, anger sparked in his chest, indignation of the fucking unfairness of it. With a snarl, he slammed the laptop shut and stalked to the window, looking down at the planet until his eyes blurred and stung but still he watched, eyes roving over the red dirt as if he would be able to spot her body. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sh*t's getting real guys that's all imma say

Weylan Darrow stood behind a podium, the Terrasen National Space Bureau logo stamped on the front, his notes resting before him. The glass-walled conference room was silent save for the sound of cameras clicking and reporters scribbling on notepads.

Asterin and Manon Blackbeak stood to the side, somber faced as they watched the proceedings, the mission director, Gavriel Aryeh next to them.

The blonde media director scanned the room, typing notes on her phone for the official notice, which would be published that afternoon.

“Early this morning, our satellites detected a storm nearing The Matron site on Farnor.” He paused, swallowing before continuing, “Later, the storm escalated to ‘severe’ and our crew was forced to abort the expedition, on day 18 of their 31-day stay.” His face was emotionless as he said, “Due to Commander Salvaterre’s quick thinking, astronauts Marama, Lochan, Whitethorn, and Faliq made it to the Farnor Ascent Vehicle.” His voice wavered and a camera flashed. “Unfortunately, during the departure, astronaut Aelin Galathynius was struck by debris and killed. The remainder of the crew was able to safely dock in The Lani and will be returning to Earth, but… Aelin Galathynius is dead.”

An alarm was sounding off inside her helmet. _Oxygen levels critical_ , the robotic voice blared. There were too many alarms ringing around her and Aelin tore her eyes open, half-buried in red sand. _Suit is breached_

She groaned as she attempted to lift herself, the same warning blasting. As the anxiety rose in her, setting her blood pumping hard as she started to hyperventilate, her training clicked in and she reached for her breach kit, tearing it off her oxygen regulator and sitting, trying to find the breach.

Twisting her legs beneath her had agony stabbing through her right leg and Aelin cried out in pain, panting as she looked down at her legs and found the wand of the satellite impaling her right thigh.

_Oxygen levels critical._

_Suit is breached._

Aelin breathed quickly, taking her cutting pliers and hacking off the end of the antennae before she grabbed it with both hands and yanked it out, biting her cheek so hard her teeth pierced the skin and blood bloomed over her tongue.

Her suit began to depressurize and she wavered, eyes fluttering as she fought past the wooziness and slapped the breach patch over the entrance. She screamed again at the force, breathing deeply as her suit pressurized. She whirled around and found that she was prone on a hill, the hab fifty metres from her.

Hope coursed through her and she looked to the FAV launch site to find it empty, the ship gone. Aelin cried as she crawled on her hands and knees, dragging her right leg behind her, the antennae stuffed through a loop on her tool-belt.

Sweat dripped down her brow and into her eyes, stinging and blinding as she struggled on, gritting her teeth so hard she nearly cracked a tooth. “Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, “you have to make it, YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT!” She yelled at herself, coming closer and closer until finally, five minutes or an eternity later, her hand grabbed the airlock latch and she used all her strength to pull it down, pushing the heavy heavy door open and pulling herself inside.

The seconds she spent waiting for the tunnel to equalize were wasted ones and she wrestled to keep her heart rate down, knowing she needed to be calm right now if she wanted to live.

She dragged herself into the main area, her arms shaking as she pushed herself to standing and limped to the medical desk, throwing her helmet off and peeling her suit as she went, putting the antennae on the desk. 

Aelin sat down on a chair, tearing the drawers open as she kept a hand pressed to her wound, eyes on the jagged end of the wand, as if it had broken inside her. Shit.

She gathered a syringe, anesthetic, forceps, suture thread, and a needle. Her hands shook as she filled the syringe with anesthetic and stabbed around the wound, pressing down and moving to the next area until the puncture wound was numb. There was a stray suit glove and she put it between her teeth, biting down as she maneuvered the forceps into the wound and felt them clicking against a piece of metal.

A scream ripped through her throat as she pinched the forceps down on it and pulled it out, hot tears coursing down her cheeks, “Oh, gods, oh my gods-“ she sobbed once, throwing the bloodied tool and the metal chip she’d retrieved on the tray, carefully threading the needle with suture thread and stitching herself up, each pass of the needle and thread agonizing as the anesthetic wore off, too soon.

The wound was red and angry as she wrapped her thigh with gauze, spitting out the glove as she tied it snuggly, pink seeping through the layers. Aelin searched through the drawers for painkillers, her vision blurry as she located them and unscrewed the cap, barely having the strength to get past the child-lock. “Fucking child-lock,” she breathed, finally opening it and shaking out a couple, not knowing the exact dosage before she knocked them back, barely having them in her belly before she passed out, the pain too much.

Gavriel was sitting in his office, communicating with The Matron crew on his computer.

They sent him one-word answers, maybe three if the question merited it. He would be sending them the new flight plan as soon as it had been calculated.

There was no answer then. He typed out, _Are you receiving? Aryeh_

It took longer than it should have for them to respond.

_Yes – Lochan_

She was the mission navigator and would input the trajectory when it had arrived.

_Is that all – Lochan_

The question took him by surprise, Elide had always been the most professional of the crew, most detached from her emotions.

But her crew mate had just died. They had always been close, their parents had been killed by the same car accident and after, Aelin and Elide had gone through the foster system together, refusing to leave each other.

All he could say was, _Yes_

He watched as the answer popped up,

_The Matron signing off_

The chat went dead and Gavriel sighed heavily, resting his forehead on his clasped hands, his elbows braced on his desk. Someone knocked on his door and he looked up to see Manon standing there, a file in her hand. “Is that it?”

The golden-eyed flight director nodded and stepped in, walking up to his desk, “Yes, all the calculations have been checked and confirmed.”

He thanked her as she put it on his desk and folded her arms over her chest, looking out the window behind him, even as she directed a question at him, “How are you doing? People tell me you were close.”

“I was… involved with her aunt for a time, a couple years before she was born. I fostered her and Lochan for a month or two, after Aelin’s cousin joined the army and he couldn’t care for them anymore.” He didn’t say that the cousin was his son, who refused to speak with him or even acknowledge him in any way. “I don’t know how I’m doing.”

Nobody did. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It had been a short expedition, too. But now, a woman was dead and they had to plan a funeral and bury a bodiless casket in the cold ground as her corpse became buried beneath red red sand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe we really getting into it now

The military cemetery thirty minutes outside Orynth was cold and bleak, fitting for the day.

Everyone in attendance was staring at the empty casket being lowered into the hole dug into the frozen ground of early January. Weylan shuffled his notes, clearing his throat before speaking, “Our space program was lucky to have an astronaut like Aelin Galathynius. She gave her life to this program and will be sorely missed. Her sacrifice in the furthering of science itself will not be in vain and the men and women here at TNSB will notice her absence every second of every hour, ensuring that her death means something. Anneith bless her and Hellas save her,” he said, making the sign of protection and prayer, a three fingered claw-like shape and pushing it from his heart.

The attendees repeated the gesture while Manon and Asterin whispered their own prayers, holding hands tightly, designating the highest Ironteeth honour on the fallen woman.

Gavriel was already in Weylan’s office as he walked in with Asterin, the two locked in a hushed argument. Upon spying the mission director, they paused and Weylan nodded towards the folder in his hand, “What’s that there?”

“I need you to sign off on the plans for the-“

“No.”

Gavriel pressed harder, “I know I can get parliament to fund it-“

“Gavriel, that’s not why I said no and you know it.” Weylan sighed and walked past him to sit behind his desk, Asterin taking a seat beside Gavriel. “We’re a public organization, everything we do has to be transparent.”

“And?”

Weylan and Asterin shared a look before the director responded, speaking slowly, “The moment the satellites point to the hab, we broadcast Aelin Galathynius’ body to the world.”

Gavriel scoffed, “You’re afraid of a PR scandal?”

Asterin rose a brow, “Of course we are. We have a dead astronaut on Farnor and we still need funding for The Crone.”

“So then what do we do?” he asked, tapping his finger on the folder, “She’s not going to decompose, her body will be up there forever.”

The director shrugged, “Meteorology reports that she’ll be covered by sand in less than a year.”

Gavriel threw his hands up, nearly hitting Asterin in the process, “We can’t wait a year! We have work to do and are we not going to discuss retrieving her body?”

“And what? Waste money and time for a corpse?”

Both Asterin and Gavriel flinched, the former hiding her adverse reaction better than Gavriel did. He was at a loss for words, thankfully Asterin spoke up, “Weylan, think about it. The Crone can bring the body back. Sympathy for her family-“

“What family? She’s an orphan and unmarried.”

It took conscious effort to anger Gavriel and he clamped down on the red-hot emotion, gritting his teeth as Asterin spoke again, “The Crone can bring back her body. We don’t make the mission about that, but we make it clear that that’s part of it. I can spin it if we do this now, Weylan. We can’t wait a year – people won’t  _ care _ in a year.”

The pain had lessened, if barely, as Aelin came to, not sure how’d long it had been since she’d passed out. There was no new blood and she sighed in relief, reaching for the pills again and taking one. Aelin stood up, pushing herself up carefully until she was standing.

She groaned but was able to breathe past the ache and hobble her way to the bunks, dragging out her box and getting warmer clothes.

Putting them on took energy, too much of it, and she was panting as she sat on the floor, her back against her bed. Her stomach panged in hunger and she would have to find something to eat soon, but first, she grabbed her laptop and moved to the kitchen, sitting down and opening the computer up.

After a few taps and a bit of fiddling, she clicked on the video journaling and the camera started rolling. “Fuck, I don’t know how to do this,” she muttered, glancing at herself on the screen before squaring her shoulders and taking deep breath. “Uh, hi. This is Aelin Galathynius, recording from the hab. It’s currently,” she looked at the timestamp next to the recording time, “sixteen-hundred hours and surprise! I didn’t die!” She laughed shakily, dragging her hand through her hair.

“I’m assuming this  _ is  _ a surprise to the crew and TNSB, if not, I’m going to kick some asses, but… I did not die on day eighteen. If I’m piecing this all together correctly, this,” she held up the antennae, “lovely little thing here damaged my bio-monitor and the team… had to leave before someone else got hurt.” Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away, “Stupid painkillers, making me cry. But I… if I don’t make it out of here, which is highly likely, I just want to tell my crew that I don’t blame you, ok?”

She let out a shaky breath and continued, “I know that you broody humans are going to blame yourselves, especially you, Salvaterre, but it was a tough situation and I would’ve made the same call. It’s just my bad luck, you know?”

Aelin shook her head, “Alright, now that all the mushy stuff is out of the way, I need to do some science.” She grabbed a nearby pen and her mission file, “There’s no way to contact TNSB because the satellite broke and I was impaled by the antennae. The next manned mission is in four years and I have to survive on a desolate planet for that long, right? Oh, and get to the Mistward crater where a prepositioned FAV is just waiting.”

She chewed on the pen, brows furrowing as she thought, “It’s a thirty-one-day expedition which means we have provisions for seventy, as a precaution.” She scribbled some numbers down, her mind whirling, “Now, it’s just me here which means it’ll last for…” she trailed off, “three-hundred days. With rationing, I can stretch it to four hundred. Which means I don’t have enough provisions to make it.”

With a sly grin, she looked up at the camera, “Thankfully, I know a thing or two about botany and soil.”

Aelin pushed herself in the wheeled chair to the pantry, opening every drawer and carefully counting every packet they had, separating them into different piles.

One, marked with red letters,  _ Do not open until Beltane  _ caught her eye and she grabbed it, “Oh, thank fuck the only thing Terrasen can grow is potatoes.” She looked at the camera by the microwave, “I’m about to science the shit out of this. It’s not gonna be pretty, I need to reclaim our waste and make fertilizer, but… it’ll keep me alive.”  _ For now _ .

It had been a week since the storm and Aelin had completed converted the kitchen into a greenhouse, Farnor soil on the floor, fertilized with the crew’s own human waste, with neat rows of spuds by moving all the chairs and tables outside, dumping them on the ground next to the rover station. That was another thing. To get to the next drop-site, it was a two-thousand-kilometre drive and the rover went a total of fifty.

Adding in the fact that she would have to spend the nights inside the rover as well, with outside temperatures reaching negative seventy-three in Celsius, she would need to turn on the heater, which would drain the battery.

She’d long since gone through everyone’s things, finding the holy grail, a rover manual in Lorcan’s box. Aelin had never been more thankful for mechanical engineering in her life.

It was slow and hard work to modify the two rovers they had. After fifty kilometres, the batteries would need to be recharged, at the hab.

Left with no other options, Aelin had been forced to dig up the old radioisotope thermoelectric generator, powered by none other than plutonium itself. The list of dangers was lengthy, however, Aelin wasn’t too worried.

She talked to the camera in the rover, “Now, I do remember that one of our lessons was ‘Don’t Go Digging Up The Big Box Of Plutonium,’ but it’s either cancer due to exposure or slowly dying due to the laws of thermodynamics. Honestly, at this point, getting cancer due to exposure to a toxic chemical would be heaven compared to being alone on a desolate planet, but them’s the breaks, I guess.”

The lone astronaut was sitting before the computer, wearing the hoodie Rowan had left. It was the only thing that brought her comfort, other than the motherload she’d found on Nesryn’s computer – all of the  _ Twilight  _ movies and, of course, the computer geek’s favourite manga,  _ Anatolia Story _ . It was surprisingly interesting and after she’d binge read seven out of twenty-eight volumes, Aelin forced herself to stop, telling herself she’d only read one volume a week. So far, she’d kept to her promise, but she’d been so busy with figuring out how to stay alive, she hardly had any free time.

She did find enough time to laugh herself silly over the fact that Fenrys’ had every Disney princess movie available, even her favourite:  _ Mulan _ .

Elide had been her saviour with PDFs of  _ Harry Potter _ , and Lorcan with Marvel movies. Even grouchy Rowan had  _ Grey’s Anatomy _ , which was quite a shock to find out, given how much the doctor looked down on the show. Sometimes, Aelin imagined his voice as he ranted about how dramatic and unrealistic it was, especially with how many of the doctors slept with their co-workers.

But now was not the time to think of such things, Aelin had work to do.

Last night, she had recorded, yet again, her random thought pattern, focusing on how she would water her crops, after having planting the spuds for Beltane. “Thank the gods that Elide was always a fucking weirdo and learned how to fabricate water at much too young, but hey, foster parents don’t pay that much attention. Well,” she chuckled, “they paid enough attention to stop her from ordering _ The Anarchist’s Cookbook _ , which is a good thing because that was a time when we were in one of our little spats,” which were really anything but  _ little _ . “She was able to put together this handy-dandy thing.” She indicated the packet on the table, of various simple reactions including one very, very important one.

Water.

Aelin toyed with Elide’s evil eye symbol, “The thing is, to make water, we need fire, which seems a bit strange, why would one need fire for water? But anyway, TNSB is against fire because of the whole ‘fire in space makes everyone die’ thing. So, everything is fire-retardant. Everything,” she held up the evil eye, which happened to be made of wood, “except for El’s personal items.”

There was a small knife on the table and she picked it up, shaving off pieces of her sister’s carving, “Ellie, if you see this, I’m assuming you don’t mind that I went through your personal boxes – all of yours actually. Commander, and I mean this with no offence, but all you listen to is punk. I have nothing against punk, but after a while, it all sounds the same, you know? One guy yells, ‘one two three four’ and then the guitars and drumming starts!”

Eventually, she had a nice pile of wood shavings and she carefully carried them over to the middle of the room. She remembered to put on her mask before passing through the plastic tarp, where Aelin had set up a very rudimentary stove-esque set up. The normally risky experiment was even more dangerous and she wasn’t going to blow herself up by forgetting to account for the oxygen she was exhaling.

“Ok,” she breathed out, putting the wood shavings on the sieve that covered the empty can of beans. Her eyes were wide, missing nothing. So many things could go wrong and Elide’s voice filled her head,  _ There’s a reason people without chemistry degrees don’t make water _ . “I know that,” she bit out, her brows lowering as she carefully poured a few drops of rocket fuel – hydrazine – which was conveniently made of two sodium atoms bonded with four hydrogen atoms.

Carefully, so carefully, she struck the torch, wincing as the wood caught on fire, the flames fluttering happily. When nothing bad happened, she cheered and smiled beneath her mask, keeping one eye on the set-up and another on her spuds as she backed up into the kitchen, a slightly mad smile on her face as she sat down heavily on the chair and looked into the camera, “Don’t worry, guys, no explosions or fire, other than the very controlled experiment.”

Aelin was hunched over a map,  _ Iron Man: 3  _ playing idly on the laptop beside her. She was planning her route to the drop-site, which was in the Mistward crater. She breathed out and wiped the sweat from her brow.

Sweat.

Hardly daring to move, she turned to look at the plastic tarp of her greenhouse, seeing the drops of water on it. With a half-crazed laugh, she stood up and entered the closed off space, running her hand over the tarp, her fingertips coming away wet. “Water,” she breathed, buzzing with joy, “water! I have water!”

She raced to her bunk and threw on her suit and helmet, bouncing on her toes as she waited for the airlock tunnel to depressurize and then she raced to the water reclaimer, as fast as one could while wearing a spacesuit.

The sun beat down on her but she barely paid the heat any mind as she opened the water reclaimer, a dry sob tearing from her throat as she found it to be filled to the brim with the crystal clear liquid. 

For the first time since she’d woken up, Aelin felt hope, bright and beautiful  _ hope _ . 

It was past midnight in Perranth and Nox Owens yawned into his mug of tea, blinking hard to stay awake.

He settled back into his chair in Satellite Control, pulling up the aerial images of the hab for his boss. They took a while to load and he might have dozed off, jolting and nearly spilling his tea as the computer beeped, indicating the images were ready. With a slight sigh, he carefully put his mug down and pushed his glasses up after they had slipped down to the end on his nose yet again.

Blinking the sleepiness from his startlingly grey eyes, he clicked through the batch, making sure everything was normal before sending them up to his superiors. Something had him shifting in his wheelie-chair and narrowing his angular eyes, “What the fu…”

No. It couldn’t be. How in Hellas’ realm was the  _ rover _ moving? The solar panels?

This didn’t make any sense…

Logically, the satellite planner knew that there was only one answer for this, he just couldn’t believe it.

Maybe he’d seen it wrong or these were old pictures, but the timestamp in the corner of the screen told him that what he was seeing was correct.

And that meant that… Aelin Galathynius was alive. And they’d left her on Farnor, alone.

Shit.

It took him a few tries to grab the phone and he couldn’t tear his eyes away as the operator picked up.

“This is Nox Owens from SatCon, I need to speak with Gavriel Aryeh. The Farnor Mission Director, it’s an emergency.”

“Emergency, really?”

Nox hissed into the receiver, “ _ Yes, it’s an emergency _ .”


	4. Chapter 4

“It just can’t be. Have you double checked?”

Weylan Darrow's disapproving face stared at Nox through the computer screen, Asterin sitting next to him with a blank expression.

“Yes, sir. Everyone in SatCon and the RPL checked them,” he replied, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “See, the images show both the rovers moving and the solar panels being cleaned. Modifications have been made to—”

“Modifications? What modifications?”

Sartaq Dalavtchai, the director of the Rocket Propulsion Lab, held up an image, “Galathynius took the battery off the second rover and attached it to the first, to double its power…”

Asterin spoke, finishing his sentence, “She’s trying to travel to the Mistward crater for The Crone.”

“Exactly, Asterin, or that’s what we believe is happening.”

“But the rover will only be able to travel a total of one-hundred kilometres and Mistward is… two-thousand at least. Not to mention, she’ll need to use the heater during the nights.”

Sartaq nodded, “You’re correct. Which is why we believe she is planning to attach the solar panels and…” he and Nox shared a look; they wouldn’t be happy to find out what she’d dug up.

“And?” Weylan prompted, wariness in his eyes. “And what?”

“Sir, she dug up the RTG.”

Asterin’s otherworldly eyes – the truest black flecked with brilliant gold – widened, “The  _ plutonium  _ battery?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sat back in her chair, thinking aloud, “Well, it would be able to fully power the rover without needing to be charged.” As well as powering a nuclear bomb, but Asterin kept that to herself.

“She’s  _ what _ ?” Manon barked, glaring through the computer at Nox, as if he had grossly offended her. “Who even is this, where’s the director of SatCon?”

Asterin calmed her cousin, “Stop being a dick, Manon, this is Nox Owens, he’s a satellite planner and the one who found out Aelin’s still alive.” She addressed Nox next with a cheeky grin, “Don’t worry about her, she hasn’t drunk the blood of a virgin for a while, she’s a little grouchy.”

Nox laughed, still terrified of the glaring woman, and Weylan shook his head from the opposite side of the table as Manon, as if thinking,  _ Why did I hire so many witches? _

“Please, continue, Nox,” Gavriel said, “where’s Aelin going?”

“Well, we’re not sure, sir. We believe she’s testing out her modifications on the rovers. She drives for thirteen hours, stops, and returns. We think the stops are to charge the batteries.”

Weylan frowned, he seemed to do that a lot. “But you said that she attached the solar cells to the top. Why would she need to re-charge and what about the RTG?”

Sartaq waved to introduce himself, “I can answer that. The solar cells are extremely delicate and the rover is designed to cross all sorts of rough terrain so she can’t have the solar cells out all the time because the risk of breaking them is higher. As for the generator,” he paused, rubbing his fingers over his jaw, “it’s good for spacecrafts but if it ruptures around humans… no more humans. Which is why she isn’t completely relying on it. And why we buried it, with a flag so we would know not to touch it.”

The Orynth team all nodded thoughtfully and Weylan asked, “Sartaq, what’s the fastest you can get a food probe ready?”

“Hmm,” the gears in his mind circled and he narrowed his eyes, “with the planetary positioning… nine months. We’ll need six months to build it in the first place—”

“Three months. Get it done.” Weylan held up his hand when Sartaq startled, looking to protest, “You’re going to say it can’t be done and I’ll give some speech about the immeasurable capabilities of the RPL team and you’ll say something like the overtime alone will be a nightmare.”

“The overtime alone  _ will _ be a nightmare,” the harried rocket scientist mumbled, looking behind the camera at the rest of his team who were all shaking their heads and holding up a sign that read  _ FUCK NO!!! _

“Get it started, I’ll find you the money.”

Manon breathed out, trying to keep her anger in check, “It’s time to tell the crew.”

“Manon,” her boss started, his voice conveying his emotions on the topic they’d already discussed many, many times. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No,  _ you _ talked about this. But I’m the crew director,  _ I  _ decide what’s best for the crew. They deserve to know,” she pressed, balling her hands into fists, her iron nails flashing for a second.

Gavriel shook his head, “I agree with Weylan, Manon. They need to concentrate on getting home safe.”

“Fuck all of you,” spat Manon, murder in her eyes. “Fuck all of you.”

“When we have a rescue plan, we’ll tell them. Until then, it’s useless. Sartaq has three months to get it done, be patient.”

“We’ll do our best,” Sartaq said, his face pale.

Manon turned her gaze on him, cocking her head to the side, “Aelin dies if you don’t.”

Rowan couldn’t sleep.

Hadn’t been able to in the month following Aelin’s death.

He wanted more time. Not a lot, just five minutes, just enough to tell her he loved her with all that he was and would ever be.

There had always been some unspoken thing between them, it was impossible to stay away.

They’d loathed each other at the start.

Oh, she drove him  _ crazy _ .

She seemed to know  _ everything _ about everything and beat him to the first spot in their classes in the space program, utterly ruthless. At least, when Elide beat the two of them, she was tactful and humble, but Aelin…

She knew just how smart she was and refused to downplay it. Despite loathing her, it was always something he subconsciously admired of her.

She was a wildfire, unapologetic with her quest to get what she wanted, accepting nothing but the best of herself.

With her corn-silk hair and electric blue eyes, it was easy to peg her as a princess – a brat, only here on Daddy’s money.

Gods, he was an ass. It wasn’t until she had fled the dorms, crying after he’d insulted her by calling her a dumb blonde, looking for her Mrs. degree, and told her that she didn’t deserve to be here like the rest of them, and the verbal beating he’d received from Elide (arguably the most terrifying experience of his life – especially when Nesryn was forced to physically restrain the five-foot woman) that he’d realized how badly he’d fucked up.

Even Lorcan gave him a disgusted look and slapped him upside the head before Rowan chased after her and begged for forgiveness.

After… they weren’t  _ friends _ but they weren’t at each other’s throats all the time either.

Everything had changed the night she’d stumbled into his room, high after smoking with Elide and Nesryn – a birthday tradition he was told – and he fell. Harder than he’d thought possible, irrevocably and irretrievably in love with her.

Rowan kept his eyes at the kitchen table, picking at his fingernails, refusing to look up as Fenrys and Lorcan sat down.

They stayed silent and for that, he was grateful. There were no words to say and so they sat, quiet until Rowan was ready.

Gavriel was absolutely exhausted.

It had been a long day, after flying to Perranth from Orynth and meeting with Nox, who he was currently sitting next to as they watched the satellites.

He could feel his eyes drooping shut. Slapping his cheek, a couple times, and draining the rest of his coffee, he sat up and tapped the screen, “Why is there a jump here?”

“Oh, because of how the orbits line up, there’s a thirteen-minute gap every thirty hours,” Nox explained, pushing his glasses onto the top of his head and rubbing his eyes.

“Where is she going,” Gavriel wondered, tracking the movement of the rover through every frame, “there’s out there except for…” he sat up straight, his tawny eyes wide. “I need a map.” With that, he was gone, making his way out of Satellite Control as Nox scrambled to his feet and hurried after him, not sure what was happening.

They sped-walked down a hallway until the cat-like man stopped abruptly and took down a framed image of the Anascaul crater, where the hab was located, and took a marker from his pocket as someone said, “Hey, man, you can’t just do that—”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. Nox,” he addressed the younger man next to him, Nox’s mind still reeling, “what are the hab’s coordinates?”

He rattled them off and Gavriel marked them on the glass protecting the picture, drawing another mark halfway across the picture, in the opposite direction of the Mistward crater. He nodded to himself, “Alright. I know where she’s going. Where’s Sartaq?”

Nox still had absolutely no idea what was happening as he trailed after Gavriel and Sartaq through the lab. The dark-haired man said to Gavriel, “I got everyone who was here in ’03, which is when the probe went silent. I’d like to point out that it lasted three times longer—”

“Of course, Sartaq. No one is criticizing the RPL’s work, you’ve done an amazing job.” He shook hands with the three scientists, Malakai  Scéalaí, Brulo Vojnik, and Philippa Bisset. “So, I’ll just get right to it. What’s the likelihood of Aelin getting it working again?”

Philippa answered him, “It’s hard to say, really. When we lost contact, we lost a data bank, so we were never able to figure out how it lasted as long as it did and why it stopped working.” She indicated the covered machinery behind him, “We have the replica all ready for you.”

Gavriel turned around and they pulled the tarp off to reveal the original Farnor probe – The Lord of The North.

Aelin had been sitting outside the hab for an hour. She was so ready to just give up, but every time she thought about throwing a fit and stomping inside, Lorcan’s face appeared and his voice filled her head, insulting her and threatening her with gross bodily harm if she went the ‘pussy-ass-bitch’ route and gave up. Aelin had to stop herself from answering to him, not ready to be  _ that _ kind of crazy.

She stared at the probe, praying for it to move to point to either one of the signs she’d written and stabbed in the earth after travelling to dig up another TNSB relic.

There were three signs in total, the closest one reading  _ Yes _ , the middle one:  _ Messages written here. Are you receiving?  _ And the third:  _ No _ , which was a little redundant because if they didn’t receive, they wouldn’t be able to point to any of the signs, let alone  _ No _ .

The sun was setting and Aelin could feel herself nodding off, drained after her day and the emotional toll.  _ Gods, I just want to go home _ , she prayed,  _ take me home, please _ . She hadn’t let herself cry and it seemed she had put it off too much to control when her eyes grew wet and soon enough, tears were rolling down her cheeks.

A whirring noise interrupted her and she opened her eyes, her heart in her throat as the camera spun to… the left. Yes, they were receiving.

Aelin almost didn’t believe it and stood on surprisingly strong legs before taking one step and then another, but when the probe stayed on the ‘yes’ sign, she threw her arms up and cheered, her voice breaking as the tears came faster and faster.

“So, here’s the thing,” Aelin addressed the camera once again, eating oatmeal for dinner, and potatoes. She’d always loved oatmeal, loved to load it up with brown sugar and cream aplenty, to the confusion of every person she’d ever met. “We have to have serious astrophysical engineering conversations with a still frame camera that has a thirty-two-minute round trip communication time. Luckily,” she ate a bite, talking with her mouth full, “the camera  _ does _ spin three-sixty so I can use an alphabet.”

She stood and walked her empty bowl over to the sink, scraping it clean, “It just can’t be ours because with twenty-six characters plus a question card gives me a twelve-degree arc, which is too narrow, we’d never know what it’s pointing at. Which means,” she spun, pointing her spoon at the camera, “hexadecimals to the rescue!”

She elaborated as she dragged Nesryn’s box into the frame, “Only sixteen characters gives me enough room and I’m hoping the geeks at RPL can send me some code so that the rover’s computer can communicate with TNSB. Fingers crossed.”

Sitting down, she held up a TSCII – Terrasen Standard Code for Information Interchange – table, “I figured one of you had to have an old TSCII table lying around and, ladies and gents, I give you super nerd: Nesryn Faliq. Mala above, Nes, you’re such a computer geek.”

The code had been developed from telegraph code and eventually formatted for the very first telephones and then evolving to computers. It used the decimal numbers – 0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 – and six extra symbols, which were transmitted in binary code to be converted by computers.

It had been three days since the probe first made contact with TNSB and Aelin had been right, the folks at RPL sent her instructions on how to hack the rover’s computer and with just a smidgen of code, they could now communicate by using the Lord of The North’s broadcasting system.

She’d told them what was happening and what had happened during the storm, reinforcing that it was not the crew’s fault.

Text appeared on the screen.

_ TNSB: Aelin, this is Gavriel Aryeh _

_ TNSB: We’ve been watching you on the satellites for a while now, amazing job modifying the rovers and growing crops, we’re all rooting for you _

_ LTN: I should hope you all want me to survive, _ Aelin replied, laughing to herself. Giddiness had taken over every emotion since they’d made contact.

_ TNSB: RPL is putting together a supply mission to keep you fed until The Crone _

_ LTN: Glad to hear it, really excited about not dying _

_ LTN: How’d the crew take it when they found out I was alive?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well isn't that a fun place to end on!


	5. Chapter 5

Her question stared at them.

_LTN: How’d the crew take it when they found out I was alive?_

She typed a new one,

_LTN: Are you there?_

Sartaq whispered to Gavriel, “She needs to know now.”

Gavriel swallowed, hard, and ignored the fact that his hands were shaking as he replied.

_TNSB: We haven’t told the crew you’re alive._

_TNSB: We need them to stay focused on the mission._

_It took awhile for her to respond and when she did…_

_LTN: They don’t know I’m alive?_

_LTN: What the fuck is wrong with you?_

_LTN: Are you fucking shitting me right now?_

_LTN: If you are, fuck you, that shit’s not funny._

_Uneasy laughter erupted across the room and Gavriel hastily answered._

_TNSB: Aelin, please, watch your language_

_TNSB: This conversation is being broadcasted worldwide_

_LTN: Oh worldwide, really?_

_LTN: Worldwide can suck my fucking dick_

_LTN: I’m stranded on a fucking planet and my crew thinks I’m dead and you want me to watch my language?_

_LTN: Get fucked_

Manon walked into Weylan’s office with Asterin, a look of ‘I told you so’ on her face. He held up a finger and pointed to the phone, speaking into it, “Yes, ma’am. Yes, I agree. She’s under a lot of stress… we understand. We’re dealing with it… Thank you, ma’am.”

He hung up and looked at Manon, “I just had to apologize to the gods-damned prime minister of Terrasen for Aelin’s crass language. What is it?”

“Aelin is right. It’s only going to get worse the longer we wait.”

“You’re only bringing this up because Gavriel’s in Perranth and can’t argue against it,” Weylan commented, a determined set to his jaw.

Manon made a sound of disgust, “I shouldn’t have to clear it with _Gavriel_ or anyone else for that matter, not even you. It’s time, Weylan.”

Lorcan was in the ship’s gym, raising himself to the bar and lowering himself again, sweat running down his body.

He had his earbuds in and the music stopped, Nesryn’s voice coming through, “Commander?”

Dropping to the floor and landing neatly, he grabbed the hand towel and wiped his face, breathing hard, “Go ahead, Faliq.”

“Data dump is almost complete,” she said, referencing the private emails and other things that the crew had been sent.

“Copy. Coming to you.” He entered the zero-gravity corridor, rendezvousing with Fenrys, “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

The man grinned a giddy grin, “Nehemia had her six-month ultrasound yesterday, she said she’d sent the pictures.”

Lorcan smiled easily, he was happy for the couple. “Tell her congrats for me and also send along my condolences.”

Fenrys furrowed his brow as he pushed himself forward using the rungs alongside the walls, “Why condolences?”

“Because it’s probably just set in that she’s having your child,” he laughed and easily evaded Fenrys’ poor attempt to hit him as the rotating craft synthesized gravity and they slid down to the rec room, where everyone had gathered.

Lorcan paused by Elide, where she was sitting curled on a couch with her personal laptop on her lap, to crouch before her and take her hand in both of his, murmuring words too low for the rest of the crew to hear.

Nesryn addressed everyone, “Dump is complete and sending out personals right… now. I don’t need to see Fen’s weird pregnancy fetish shit; I’m scarred for life after the incident.” The incident in question was when Nesryn had accidentally mixed up an email and had opened his and Nehemia’s rather… heated conversation. Rowan huffed a laugh at the memory and everyone shared a look; this was the happiest they’d seen him in the three months since they’d aborted the mission without Aelin.

Fenrys groaned, “I told you, second trimester hormones are a bitch.”

“Whatever does it for you, just keep me out of it,” she said, laughter in her dark eyes, “Oh, huh. There’s a video message from Manon, addressed to the whole crew.”

Everyone made their way over to the computer, crowding around as Nesryn clicked on the video.

Manon’s face appeared on the screen and the video began to play, her voice coming through the speakers, _“Lani, this is Manon Blackbeak. I have some news to share, there’s no easy way to put this: Aelin Galathynius is alive.”_

The knowledge hit the crew like a freight train at full speed and they remained in shock as the message continued, _“We know that’s a big surprise and you’ll have a lot of questions but as for the basics: she’s healthy and alive. We found out two months ago and I was ordered not to tell you. We’re telling you now because we have reliable communication with her and a rescue plan. We’ll send you a full write-up of what happened but know that this is not your fault. Aelin has heavily stressed this: it is not your fault. Take time to absorb this, your schedules have been cleared for the next two days. Send all your questions and we’ll answer them. Blackbeak out.”_

“She’s…she’s alive?” Elide whispered, voice barely heard.

Fenrys was the first to crack, a slow smile spreading across his face, relief in his eyes, “G-Money lives.”

Nesryn and Elide both huffed laughs and the latter wiped her eyes, shaking their heads. “She’s alive,” Nesryn confirmed, a ghost of a smile on her face.

They all turned to Rowan, his façade slipping enough that there was an upwards tilt to the corners of his mouth. “Holy shit.” The doctor turned to Lorcan, who had remained silent, “Lor?”

“I left her behind.”

Fenrys shook his head decidedly, “We _all_ left, L. All of us.”

The stone-faced commander clenched his jaw, his brow furrowing, “You were following orders.” His eyes shattered and when Elide reached for his hand, he shifted, keeping his gaze on the computer screen. “I left her.”

The group traded glances, not sure what to say. Elide rested her hand on his bicep and without another word, he shook off her hold and exited the room.

Nesryn wasn’t paying attention and her wife could tell. The green-eyed beauty paused in her retelling of their teenaged daughter’s, Evangeline, first date. “Nes?”

“Hmm?”

Lysandra chuckled, “You still there?”

“Oh,” Nesryn sat up straighter and smiled sheepishly at Lysandra, nodding, “yeah, it’s just… been a long day. Weird day too.”

Her wife tilted her head to the side, her brilliant eyes missing nothing, “You okay? Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she said, her smile growing as a redheaded girl popped her head upside down in the frame, her citrine eyes pressed up against the camera.

“Mama!” Evangeline sat down on the couch next to Lysandra, the fifteen-year-old wearing Nesryn’s TNSB hoodie, the scarred-over slashes on her cheeks stretching as she grinned. She pressed her hand against the screen and Nesryn copied the motion, her eyes watering.

“Hi, my darling,” she whispered, “how are you?”

“I’m good. I miss you, Ma,” she pouted, but soon enough her lips pulled into that brilliant smile of hers again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I miss the both of you so much and I can’t wait to see you either,” Nesryn replied, the sight of her family so happy and healthy mending her heart, even if it was just a bit. “Evie, your mother tells me you went on a date?”

Lysandra and Nesryn laughed as their daughter’s cheeks went bright red, her scars stark white against her flushed skin. “…maybe.”

“Tell me all about it.”

“Are you sure? It was a boy,” Evangeline said, a wrinkle to her button nose.

Nesryn faked a gagging sound and inhaled deeply, “I think I can handle it.”

The joyful chatter of their daughter soon spilled from the speakers and Nesryn gave her wife a soft look, mouthing _I love you_ as she let the perfectness of her two favourite people in the world wash over her and strip away the day’s events. 

When Lorcan didn’t return for the rest of the night, the sadness that had erupted in Elide’s chest turned to anger and she sought him out, finding him in his bunk, staring at nothing.

He didn’t acknowledge her as she climbed up so she did what any sensible person would do.

She jabbed him in the side with her index and middle finger, finding the soft flesh beneath his ribcage, glaring at him when he cried out in shock and pain. He met her angered gaze with one of his own, irritation rippling in his dark irises beneath lowered brows. 

Elide shook her head, “Don’t know why the fuck you’re pissy with me now.”

He sighed, “What do you want?”

She raised a brow, tilting her head to the side and tracking his face with watchful eyes. “You’re being a dick and I’m not putting up with it so…” she made to leave, blinking back tears, but his hand shot out and wrapped around hers.

“Don’t go, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging her back into his lap. The bunk was already a tight fit for Lorcan, who at six-foot-four and two-hundred and ten pounds was at the maximum size restrictions to be an astronaut, so with Elide as well, it became even smaller. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” she murmured, twisting to straddle his lap and brush his hair back from his eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because I left the woman my brother loves on a planet, with practically no way to survive. Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. “I don’t- I love you so much. I can barely breathe right without knowing you’re safe and I… I can’t help feeling guilty for condemning her to death. El.” He opened his eyes and flicked his gaze down to her necklace, where his dog tags laid between her breasts. The weight of her mother’s wedding band hanging on his own necklace had never felt more pronounced. “She might die, alright? And if she does, it will be my fault and I just… I can’t live with the knowledge of breaking Rowan’s heart like that.”

He took a deep breath, not used to speaking that much all at once. Elide offered him a gentle smile and framed his face with her hands, her eyes searching his, “I love you so much. Right now, Ae is alive and healthy, ok? That’s all we need to think about right now. _If_ she dies, it will never be your fault and yes, it will hurt so much – more than anything. If she dies, the whole crew will be broken. We’ll be there for each other and for Ro, too.” She pressed her lips to his, kissing him so softly, it was heartbreaking. “Ok?”

All Lorcan could do was cup the back of her head and kiss her harder, selfishly thanking every god that it wasn’t Elide in Aelin’s place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp.....now they know???


	6. Chapter 6

Aelin carefully filled a container of water and walked it to her garden, pouring it over the crops and repeating the process until each little plant had been watered.

A camera had been set up in her garden so she spoke to it, still speaking as though TNSB couldn’t hear her or see her every move. “Now that everyone can talk to me, they never want to shut up.” She kissed the leaf of the smallest plant, smiling down at it and whispering a soft word of encouragement.

“They’ve even got a whole team micromanaging _my_ crops. Which is just great,” she added sarcastically. Aelin and the botany team were not on the best of terms. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant,” she spread her arms, as if to say look at all of this, “but I am the best botanist on this planet.”

Aelin put the container down and dusted her hands, “In other news, they want me to pose for a picture. I’m debating between ‘High School Prom’,”’ she posed with her hands elbows bent and hands clasped over her stomach, “or ‘Happy College Student On A Pamphlet’,” she hooked her thumbs through imaginary backpack straps, pasting on a gloriously fake grin. “I’m not sure how it’ll all convey with my spacesuit on, but we’ll figure it out.”

Aelin laughed to herself and walked out to the kitchen area, now addressing the camera by the microwave, “Another cool thing about this communication business: email! I get a big data dump, like when I was on The Lani and stuff. Athletes, academics, musicians and even the prime minister too. But the coolest, the single coolest email I got was from my alma mater, the University of Orynth. They tell me that once you’ve grown crops somewhere, you’ve officially ‘colonized’ it.” A cocky grin overtook her features, “So I colonized Farnor. Suck it, TNSB botany team,” she stuck her tongue out before fetching her suit to take her photo.

Asterin was in stitches as she looked at the picture Aelin had sent. The golden-haired astronaut was mid-jump, her legs bent and her arms stretched up to the sky and she could make out the huge grin splitting the woman’s face. “Oh, this is so like her,” she murmured, tracing an iron nail over the photo. “This – I can use.”

“Good,” Weylan said, already on to the next topic. He addressed Sartaq and Gavriel on the screen, “Sartaq, is your team still on schedule.”

The man looked beat, a certain bleakness in his eyes, “It’ll be tight, but we’ll make it.”

“Make sure you do.” He tapped the table, “Nine-month flight puts us at day 868. Did we get the Botany Team’s assessment?”

Gavriel nodded, “They estimate her crops will last her until day 900. They resentfully admit Aelin’s doing a remarkable job.”

“Resentfully?” Manon questioned, arching a manicured brow.

“Yes, um, Aelin has a tendency to tell them to go have sex with themselves whenever they disagree with her or question her method. Either that or she tells them she’s the best botanist on Farnor and therefore she doesn’t have to listen to mediocre scientists,” Gavriel told them, a slight wince on his face.

The director of TNSB just shook his head, “Get her in line. We can’t have any miscommunications.” He turned to Manon and Asterin, who were both badly hiding their amused grins. “Food gets there at 868, hers lasts until 900…I hate this margin.”

“And that’s assuming nothing goes wrong,” commented Manon, ever-so helpfully.

Aelin grabbed her toolkit and wedged it under her arm as she walked to the airlock, going out to do some late-night modifications on the rover.

Something was niggling in the back of her mind, but she paid it no heed, just wanting to do her work and sleep like the dead after whatever meager dinner she could scrounge up. She was running out of ketchup and she dreaded the day that she was forced to eat plain cooked potatoes.

A yawn grew in her and her eyes watered, gods above, she just wanted to sleep.

When one was stranded on a desolate, slumber was a fickle thing. Aelin’s eyes grew heavy as she pulled the airlock handle down.

All she heard was a ripping sound going along the canvas of the airlock before she was airborne, an explosion catapulting her and the tunnel far far away.

A strangled, panicked cry escaped her as she was battered and flung around the airlock as it flew through the air and crashed, her helmet crashing into something and she heard a cracking sound, closing her eyes on instinct.

The canvas tube rolled too many times for her to count until eventually it stopped and Aelin sat up, alarms blaring in her helmet.

It was cracked.

Fuck, it was cracked, a little hole where the polycarbonate-plexiglass had been chipped free. The beeping didn’t stop and Aelin fought to keep her breathing under control as she scrambled to her feet and wrenched the duct tape free, ripping off a length and taping it across the longest crack and then another across it.

Her toolkit had spilled everywhere and she grabbed a sharp screwdriver, stabbed it into the fabric of the airlock and yanked it down, creating a big enough rip for her to stumble out of.

Aelin could hardly see past the duct tape and she spun around, desperately looking for the hab and then sprinting, tripping countless times in her mad dash.

She stepped foot in and saw… her crops, destroyed beyond recognition.

Her lifeline was destroyed and Aelin gasped, her throat tight as she staggered out. She couldn’t stay here tonight and no good would come if she attempted to fix anything now.

Making her way to the rover, tears dripped down her cheeks until violent sobs were ripping from her throat and chest. She stumbled over a pile of rocks and fell to her knees, her gloves digging into the red dirt. There was no other answer; Aelin was going to die here alone.

A scream tore from her and soon enough, she was cursing the gods, “Where are you?! Why do you fail me time and time again?!” Her throat was raw and on fire. Her voice cracked, “ _Somebody save me_.”

But no one answered her calls, not as she stayed there, kneeling in the sand, the reality of _everything_ crashing down on her. There was no hope left, no bright and beautiful feeling.

The gods had never been there for her. Never.

Not when her parents died in that car wreck, not when she had to protect little Elide when she herself needed protecting, not when they made her fall for a heartless and cruel bastard, who carried a chip on his shoulder, going through life thinking no one had it as hard as he did.

It was stupid and childish to think they would save her now.

The mood in Mission Control was somber, nobody daring to speak as Nox read off the message Aelin had sent. “…crops are dead. Complete loss of pressure sterilized the soil and boiled off whatever was left in the water reclaimer…”

The only upside was that Aelin had managed to store away buckets of water and didn’t have to worry about that. “How long does she have,” Asterin asked.

“Well, she can still eat the potatoes she has. We estimate about two-hundred days.”

“Rations get her to what? Day four-ten?”

“Yes, so with potatoes, she can stretch to six-ten.”

“Prelim calculations call for a four-hundred-day round trip.”

“By day 868 she’ll be long dead,” said Manon, her face emotionless. Her eyes narrowed and she sucked on her teeth, “It’s day one-thirty-five right now, we need thirteen to mount the boosters and do inspections… which give RPL forty-seven days to make the probe. Darkness above, gods damn it.”

“How long does it usually take?”

Gavriel answered Nox, his voice defeated, “Six months.”

Fenrys was sitting in front of The Lani’s communications computer, typing an email to Aelin. TNSB had finally given them the ok to speak with her and only Fenrys had been up to the task.

 _Dearest G-Money,_ he wrote, laughing quietly to himself, _Apparently, TNSB deemed it appropriate for us to talk to you and I drew the short straw. Sorry we left you on Farnor, we don’t like you very much and we were all tired of you hogging shower times. The downside is we have to rotate through your tasks, but it’s only dirt (not real science). How’s Farnor?_

Aelin was crying as she read Fenrys’ email. Oh, how she missed them, so terribly. The day had been a long one, one where it seemed she couldn’t stop the tears even as she fixed the mess that had been made.

She didn’t think she’d ever been as heartbroken as when she was clearing out her ruined garden and dumping the dead plants outside. After she spent a few minutes mourning all her work, thinking to herself that the botany team would be thrilled she had finally failed, she got busy – covering the hole made in the hab by taping over a plastic tarp she would no longer need now that the greenhouse was useless.

The wind was making it flutter and flap, but it would hold as she replied to her friend.

_My most beloved Fenny,_

_Farnor is fine. How’s The Lani? Cramped, with those two broody men? I accidentally blew up the hab, but fortunately, all your movies were spared which means tonight I’m going to eat plain potatoes and watch Mulan._

_Everyday I go outside and look at the vast horizon, just because I can and guess what, I officially colonized Farnor._

_I hope the girls are going easy on you poor boys, I know they can be rather ruthless when it comes to board and card games._

_Say hello to the others and tell Lorcan that I’m gonna beat his ass if he’s still blaming himself._

After a few minutes, she read his typed reply, just two words, _Will do._

Aelin did indeed watch _Mulan_ as she ate her dinner and then, she got up, licking her plate clean and walking it to the sink before she sat down in front of her laptop once more, opening the video journal.

She wished so badly that she could be doing anything other than this, but enough was enough. She wasn’t a child and could no longer put this off. She owed it to herself and to her crew.

“Manon, it’s currently day one-thirty-six, around nine PM. I have a favour to ask of you, and I’m sending these to you, _only you_ , because you’re the only one who will understand. Thank you for everything you did and thank you-“ her voice broke, “thank you for being my friend.”

Aelin took a second, her eyes shut as tears slipped past her lashes, “I want you to send these to the crew in case I don’t make it, ok?”

It took a lot to decide to send these, but Aelin pushed through, addressing the first one to Nesryn.

“Faliq… thank you for being you. Every day spent with you is one I cherish, because I love you so much. Thank you for getting me hooked on _The Anatolia Story_ ; it’s addictive. I’ve read fourteen out of twenty-eight volumes and I can’t wait to finish it, but I’m trying to ration them. I won’t forgive you for liking Twilight. Take good care of my goddaughter and your wife. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you guys. Every day I miss you.”

The rest of the letters went the same way, with her saying her last goodbye to her family. Every word had her throat growing tighter and tighter, until only Elide and Rowan were left. She didn’t know what to say to him, how to tell him she loved him so when she would be dead too soon.

Hot tears were streaming down her face and she looked crazy as she spoke to Elide.

“Ellie-Boo. I-“ she sobbed once and covered her mouth, “I love you so so much. To infinity and beyond,” referencing the movie that had their obsession with outer-space beginning, _Toy Story_. “There’s too much to say to you. You’re my person, baby girl. Without you, I would’ve probably wound up in a ditch somewhere. I want you to have the biggest wedding and a dress with enough sequins so that I can see it in the Afterworld. You are not allowed to be sad, no tears, Elide. I mean it. My funeral better be so much better than the one TNSB had – boooring!” Aelin smiled cheekily and then grew serious, the redness from her crying making the turquoise of her eyes pop. “Be happy, my darling sister. Because guess what, you and me? More than anything, we deserve to know happiness and you’re going to have to take my happy too. I love you, to infinity and beyond.” She pressed a kiss to her fingertips and touched the screen.

The letter she dreaded having to dictate was staring her in the face and Aelin stood up, walking around in circles as she attempted to order her thoughts. Eventually, she sat down, “…Rowan. I… there’s a lot to say, but I won’t ever be able to stop crying if I say everything. Basically, I love you. I don’t know how or when or even why, but I do. I’m completely in love with you, buzzard. And I wish I hadn’t been such a coward to keep it all to myself all this time. I wish that we could’ve been together and in the next life, I will find you and I will not be scared of it, ok? I will find you again and I will not be afraid.” 

She couldn’t say another thing and ended the video, sitting and staring at the wall until she finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that wasn't very nice of me


	7. Chapter 7

The young man – boy, really – was sleeping on the love seat in his office, snoring ever so slightly.

Vaughan Kuāutli popped his head in the open door and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe, “Luca?” The sleeping boy simply snored and smacked his lips together. Vaughan sighed and said louder, “Luca, wake up. RPL needs the probe courses.”

Luca sprang up, his mop of unruly hair facing every which way. “Oh, hey, Vaughan.” He stumbled to his feet, yawning as he made his way to his desk and computer, where graphics of the course projection were spinning around. He grabbed an opened can of some energy drink and chugged the rest, crushing the can in his hand and tossing it into the wastebasket. He missed.

Vaughan didn’t blink an eye, knowing this was normal behaviour for the son of Malakai Scéalaí. Despite the fact that he was TNSB legacy, Luca had worked harder than anyone he knew to get here, where he held the position of astrodynamicist. The boy was near genius status. “I know we’re coming at this from the wrong way, but we can’t commit to launch dates with these many unknowns.”

Luca waved his hand as he sat down in his wheeled chair, nearly missing it. _Why did I let him get a wheeled chair,_ Vaughan thought. T _here’s so many things that could go wrong._ “It’s fine. All twenty-three models will take four-hundred and four days to reach Farnor. They only slightly vary in thrust duration and fuel requirement is almost identical.”

His boss entered the messy room. Messy might have been an understatement. Vaughan thought that ‘biohazard’ was fitting for Luca’s office/bedroom - he ended up spending the night here more often than not. “Four-hundred and four days. Not a good launch window, huh?” His eyes roved over the calculations.

Luca snorted, “It’s terrible. Like, it’d almost be easier to…” his chestnut-brown eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up behind his floppy fringe.

“Almost easier to what?”

Luca got to his feet slowly, looking as though he’d seen a ghost, “I need more RedBull. And coffee.” Honestly, it was a miracle Luca hadn’t dropped dead from cardiac arrest yet.

“Almost easier to what?” Luca was too lost in his head and scrambled for the door, pushing Vaughan out of the way. Vaughan stared after him, “You do remember that I’m your boss, right?”

The only indication Luca gave that he heard him was a thumbs-up over his head and then he disappeared around the corner.

“Am I reading this right, five-hundred million?”

Sartaq nodded, looking like he was about to drop dead right on the carpeted floor of his office. “Yes, sir, that’s correct.”

Weylan’s brows rose, the only indication of his shock and he turned his gaze from the screen to the table in front of him, Manon and Asterin somber on the other side. “And now for the expensive question, where’s your team at?”

“…we’re behind.” Sartaq said, sounded defeated. “If I had fifteen more days, I could get it done.”

“All right. Say I can get you fifteen days, then… what? It’s thirteen to mount the probe?”

The RPL director tilted his head to the side a few times, “It actually only takes three days to mount the probe. I can get that down to two and the other ten are for inspections.”

Weylan drummed his fingers on his briefing folder, contemplating something. “How often do those tests present a problem?”

Everyone froze and Manon asked, her voice almost aghast, “Are you saying we don’t do the inspections?”

“Right now, I’m asking how often they present a problem. Sartaq?”

The exhausted man looked nervous and almost as if he resented saying, “One in twenty, but that’s still grounds for countdown halt. Weylan, we can’t take that chance.”

“If you have a safer way, by all means, tell me. Anybody?” Nobody answered him and he nodded, “Right then. Manon, tell Dr. Towers to stretch Aelin’s rations four more days. She won’t like it, but it’ll get us to fifteen. Cancel the inspections.”

“Sir-“

“It’s on me, Gavriel. Sartaq, you have your two weeks. Get it done.”

Aelin was standing by the microwave, watching her plate of food spin around and around until the machine beeped and she hastily grabbed the plate, hissing at the heat as she put it down on the counter. Meatloaf and potatoes. Again.

Grabbing her knife and fork, Aelin cut up the meatloaf, “So. I have to hold out here until the probe arrives with more food. This is what minimal calorie count looks like,” pointing to the meager plate, “standard issue ration.”

She snorted a laugh, “Usually, it’s three of these every day and now… one every three days.” The meatloaf was cut into thirds and she transported two of the pieces onto a separate plate. “This is today’s allotment. Which I get to supplement with potatoes. Which I am beginning to abhor, happy, TNSB? I watched my language. Anyways, I am beginning to loathe these things with the passion of seven billion million burning suns. I’ve been told to do this,” she cut her potato in half and put one of them on the plate with the meatloaf. “You know, I used to like Yrene Towers. Point is, ‘stretch the rations four more days’ is a real tit punch.”

She walked over to the desk, where there lay two white pills. Aelin sat down and crushed the pills with her knife. She looked to the computer camera, her eyes conveying just how done she was, “I ran out of ketchup three days ago.” Moving the crushed powder into a neat circle, she said, “So I’m dipping my potato in Vicodin and no one can stop me.”

The energy in Mission Control was electric as they all waited for Manon’s signal. She slipped on her headset, “Mission Control, this is Flight Director Blackbeak. Begin launch status check.” This is where Manon was in her element and it was obvious to everyone around her.

“Roger that, Flight Director,” the Launch Control director answered. “Launch Control test is complete and we are ready.”

“This is Flight. We are a go for launch.”

The timer controller started its countdown, the robotic voice booming through Mission Control. “T-minus 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…”

Asterin paced behind Manon’s seat, praying as liftoff was announced and the rocket was launched from the holding hull.

The flight was clean and when Manon let go of a held-in breath, the room relaxed, all smiles and happy faces as the rocket flew high. But something changed.

“Flight, this is Guidance Control, we’re getting large shimmy in the tail.”

“No…” she whispered, shaking her head as the rocket began losing guidance and telemetry, absolutely powerless as it exploded right before their eyes.

The probe was gone and Weylan Darrow had just signed Aelin’s death certificate. 

Kashin and Hasar Dalavtchai were in her office in Antica, watching the head of TNSB do an interview. The woman spat to her brother, “They forced our brother to skip inspections and now their astronaut is going to die.”

“Perhaps,” Kashin replied, sliding a document her way, “The Rukhin’s booster. We ran the numbers and it has enough fuel for a Farnor injection orbit.”

Hasar, the director of the Southern Continent National Space Administration, looked over the document thoughtfully, flipping through the pages, “And they haven’t approached us, why?”

“They don’t know. Father kept the booster technology classified.” It was one of the reasons Sartaq had left. He believed that all of their knowledge should be public access.

“Hm.” Hasar narrowed her eyes and stood up, walking to her office’s large floor-to-ceiling windows. “If we do nothing… the world will never know we could have helped.”

“Yes.” Kashin hid his satisfied grin. He knew what Hasar was thinking and agreed with her wholeheartedly. “If we give them the booster, we will be effectively cancelling The Rukhin.”

Hasar turned to him, her mind already made up. She was tired of her father’s secrecy. “We keep it between SCNSA and TNSB. An exchange between scientists…”

“Yes, we understand.” Manon watched Weylan where he was pacing on the phone, with whom she didn’t know. “Yes. Yes… thank you.”

He hung up the phone, relief flooding his face. Manon sat up from where she had been slouching in his office chair. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, Luca, you need to listen to me,” Vaughan said, serious as he rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders, trying to make him stop shaking. Mala save him, how much caffeine had he ingested? “These people run TNSB, do you understand? You need to be professional. They will not be as easy on you as I am, they don’t understand your thought pattern. And if they ask you to explain, do not, _do not_ , let them know you think they’re stupid, alright?”

Luca nodded, trying to contain his bouncing. “I know, I know. I had some coffee, so I think I’m good to speak to the normies, boss man.” 

Vaughan just shook his head and whispered a prayer of protection as he herded the boy into the conference room, where Weylan Darrow, Asterin and Manon Blackbeak, and Gavriel Aryeh were.

Luca tripped over the threshold, sending his papers flying. Vaughan just hung his head and sat down beside Gavriel, “I’d like to introduce Luca Scéalaí, astrodynamicist.”

To his credit, Luca didn’t piss himself as Manon and Asterin helped him gather his papers, their sharp sharp nails shining. Gavriel rose a brow, “Scéalaí?”

“Um, yeah, my dad’s Malakai? He did some rover thing a while ago.” Luca shrugged, as if it was no big deal of one his fathers had built the first craft ever to reach Farnor. With a deep breath, he put a thick folder on the table. “This is it.”

“And what would that be, Luca?” Asterin questioned him, exchanging an amused glance with Manon. To Vaughan, it looked like two predators who found their next meal to be adorable.

“Oh, yeah, duh,” Luca slapped his forehead. “I can get The Lani back to Farnor by day five-sixty-one.”

That had everyone in the room choking and shooting up. “What,” Manon breathed, eyes wide. “ _How_?”

Luca looked around the room, spying a half-empty mug of coffee which happened to be Gavriel’s. He snatched it up and chugged the contents, to the half-horrified audience. “Ok, let’s pretend that this is The Lani and you…” he pointed at Weylan, moving his finger to indicate the man to his feet, “sorry, what’s your name?”

“Weylan. I’m the director of TNSB.”

“Oh, deadass? That’s sick, man, but anyways, you’re Farnor and you,” he pointed at Asterin who eagerly stood, relishing the chaotic way that the meeting was going, “you’re Earth. So, right now The Lani is beginning the month-long de-acceleration to enter into Earth’s orbit, yeah?” He walked the mug towards Asterin, who was shaking with her attempts to control her laughter as he made a rocket noise with his mouth and slowed with every step. Vaughan closed his eyes and groaned quietly. “But what I’m proposing…,” Luca walked faster to Asterin. He froze, looking around for something. Without a care, Luca jogged back to Weylan and plucked a pen out of his breast pocket, hurrying back to Asterin. “This is The Rukhin, alright?”

He bopped the pen off her head, causing Manon to cackle, and dumped it in the mug, “We grab whatever provisions we need and now we’re speeding up, like, nyoom, and we fly around Earth and kinda, I guess, slingshot back to Farnor.” He puttered back to Weylan, making more rocket noises.

Luca hovered the mug over Weylan’s head, “But now we’re going too fast to slow down so we do a flyby.”

“How?”

Vaughan spoke up, “By using The Crone’s FAV.”

Luca snapped his fingers and pointed at his boss, “Yes, that. I did the math. It checks out.”

“Luca?”

“Yeah?” He turned to face Weylan.

“Get out.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea, I need some coffee anyway,” Luca mumbled, leaving his things scattered about the room. “Deuces, dudes and dudettes.” 

Weylan turned to Gavriel and Vaughan. “So is he right?”

“Yes, he is,” Vaughan replied. “His math is correct; the boy is a genius. Crazy, space-cadet, can barely take care of himself, but a genius.”

“And we need to use The Rukhin?”

“Yes, sir.”

Asterin frowned, “Am I missing something?”

Manon nodded, “There’s only one booster. And both plans require it.”

“What about The Lani crew? Luca’s proposal adds…” she did the math in her head, “five-hundred and thirty-three days to their mission.”

“They wouldn’t hesitate,” Manon said, standing up and seething, because she knew what Weylan was leaning towards. “Not for a second. That’s why you made this meeting a secret, isn’t it?” she accused him, meeting his eyes until he looked away. “You want us to decide.”

Weylan nodded.

“You gods-damned coward. It should be Commander Salvaterre’s decision and you know it.”

“It’s a matter of life and death, Manon.”

“He’s the Mission Leader, life and death matters are his decisions.”

Gavriel interrupted the fight before it could escalate, “Can The Lani even do that?”

“Yes,” Vaughan said, “it was built to do all the Three-Faced Goddess missions, so it’s not even two-thirds through it’s lifespan.”

“But if something went wrong, we’d lose the crew.” Asterin furrowed her brow, fighting between siding with Manon, who she agreed with, or with Weylan, who’s option was safer. “So… what? We either have a high chance of killing one person or a low chance of killing six? How do we make that decision?”

“We don’t. Weylan does.”

All eyes turned to him and they waited for what seemed like an eternity before, “We still have the chance to bring home five astronauts. Safe and sound.”

“Let them make that decision,” spat Manon, murder in her eyes. Weylan was grateful for the table separating them, not that it would be a hindrance to her if she tried anything.

“Manon. We’re going with option one.”

She made a disgusted sound and looked around the room. No one dared to meet her eye, not even Asterin. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves.”

Aelin trudged up the hill to the solar panels, getting ready to scrub them clean. Again.

As she crested the small incline, she paused. No. She couldn’t do it anymore. 

Without another thought, she sat down, staring at the crimson sun.

Nox was sitting before his computer, tracking Aelin’s course. Gavriel was next to him and wondered aloud, “Where is she going?” She would walk for three-hundred metres in one way, pause for ten minutes and repeat the process in another direction. “RPL didn’t ask her to do this, what is it?”

“I don’t know, oh… she’s at the rover, incoming data dump… what is this, Chem analysis, batch 1A-17A?”

Realization dawned on Gavriel and admiration coursed through him. “She’s finishing the mission.”

“We evac’d on day eighteen of thirty-one, which means we still have thirteen days of labs to do.” Aelin crushed up a rock sample, “Commander Salvaterre, your work’s in good hands. Whitethorn… um… I really have no understanding of chemolithotrophic detection. Did I say that right? Anyway, I’m doing my best. Faliq, I know you hate it when I touch the ChemCam but guess what? You left me on a desolate planet, you’re not allowed to get mad at me. Lochan,” she carefully tapped the fine powder into a container and screwed the lid on tightly, labeling it with a black marker, “I got a new cataloguing system that you’ll really like. As for Marama’s jobs… there are none. Really, I don’t know why we even brought you along.”

Aelin sighed through her nose, “I know keeping everything organized and ordered isn’t my strong suit but I want it to all make sense for later. Maybe you can teach it in a class, the Galathynius syllabus. ‘How to make water out of rocket fuel’ or ‘how to grow plants on a planet with no living organisms’, I don’t know, but be creative with it, please. I refuse to have my name attached to some boring class.”

Elide was sitting in her bunk, muttering curses at her computer when it wouldn’t let her load the attachment’s from Lysandra’s email. Eventually, she gave up and called Nesryn over the radio, “Nessie darling, can I bother you?”

“Yep, what is it?”

“There’s this email from Lys, subject line: Your Bachelorette Party. I can’t open the attachments, it’s all this code.”

“Ok, well, bring it to me and I’ll see what I can do. I’m in the rec room.”

“Copy that, on my way.”

It only took a few minutes for Elide to float her way to Nesryn. She may have been distracted by her fiancé and his lips for a short while, but that was a moot point as she slid down the ladder and walked to where Nesryn was stretching on the floor. “Hey.”

Nesryn reached out for the laptop, looking like a young child on Yulemas morning, “Gimme gimme.” She lived to solve computer problems. Elide chuckled and sat down on the floor next to her friend as she worked. “Huh. These aren’t JPGs. It looks like plain TSCII files. Math equations, does this make any sense to you?” She angled the computer screen to Elide.

“’Luca Scéalaí Maneuver.’ Yeah, it’s a course maneuver for The Lani…” As the navigator for the mission, Elide tried to make sense of the equations, one phrase sticking out to her. “Day five-sixty-one. Oh, my gods. Nes, bless you, I could kiss you right now!” 

Without another word, Elide jumped up and hurried to the radio, her voice blasted through every speaker on the ship, “This is Lochan, emergency meeting in the rec room, ASAP.”

Nesryn stood up, bewildered, “E, what is it?”

“Just wait, I’ll explain everything.”

Soon after, the boys had made their way to the worktable and Elide told them everything.

They sat in shock. Fenrys was the first to speak, “Would this really work?”

Elide nodded, “Yeah, I ran the numbers. It checks out.” Respect flooded her eyes, an excited gleam that Lorcan hadn’t seen in months. “It’s a brilliant course.”

“So why all the cloak and dagger,” Rowan asked, the ink on his face scrunching as he wrinkled his brow.

“TNSB rejected the idea. They want to put a big risk on Ae as opposed to a small risk on us,” Lorcan spat, indignation in his tone, “whoever snuck it into E’s email obviously disagrees.”

“So, we’re talking about going against TNSB’s orders?”

“Uh-huh. If we do the maneuver, they’ll have to send a provisional probe. We’d be forcing their hand.”

“Are we gonna do it?” Nesryn asked, a determined tilt to her chin.

Lorcan sighed and spread his hands, “Look, if it were up to me, we’d already be on our way.”

Fenrys’ eyes narrowed in confusion, “I’m confused. You’re Mission Leader, isn’t it your decision?”

“Not this time,” Elide answered for Lorcan. “TNSB expressly rejected the plan.”

“We’re talking about mutiny,” Lorcan said and that was not a word any of them used lightly. “We either all do this together, or not at all. Before you answer,” he leaned forward, looking everyone in the eye, “think of the consequences. If we mess up the supply, we die. If we mess up the gravity assist, we die. Even if we do everything _perfectly_ , we still had five hundred and thirty-three days to our mission. Five hundred and thirty-three days without seeing our families. Five hundred and thirty-three days of unplanned space travel.”

“Sign me up.”

Everyone let loose a dry chuckle and Lorcan turned to Fenrys, “Slow down there, pup. You and me? We’re military. Chances are, we get down there and they’ll court marshal us.” Fenrys made a face. “As for the rest of you, I can guarantee, they’ll never let you back up here again.”

Now Rowan spoke up, “Say we say yes. How does this work?”

Everyone turned to Elide and she shrugged, “It’s really not that hard. I plot the course and execute it. No biggie.” A sly grin grew on her round lips. “Nes?”

“Remote override. But Mission Control can remotely pilot the ship.”

“You can’t disable it?”

“No, I can. I’d have to disable remote override on each control, which is tricky – I’d have to jump over a lot of code-“

“Just so everyone knows, Faliq’s hacker handle was ‘Mrs. Robot’ all through high school,” Elide cut in, cackling as Nesryn shot her a dirty look and then continued, daring anyone else to laugh.

“ _Lochan_ is a liar. And should keep our conversations private.” She paused. “I can do it.”

“This has to be unanimous. If _anyone_ says no, we go home as planned.” Lorcan tapped the table, emphasizing his point, “But I vote yes.”

“I vote yes,” Fenrys said, drumming his fingers on the table.

Elide mused aloud, her face growing sad, “If we do this, it will be over nine hundred days of space travel. That’s enough space to last a lifetime.” She smiled at Lorcan as he rested his hand on her thigh and traced soothing circles with his thumb, not looking at anyone else as she said, “Yes.”

“Let’s go get our girl,” said Rowan, a glimmer of a smile on his lips.

And then there was one.

“Faliq?”

“Flight, CAPCOM.”

“Go CAPCOM.”

“Unscheduled status update from The Lani.”

“Roger. Read it out,” the night shift was much quieter than the day. Usually.

“It’s… just a single sentence, sir.”

“What? What’s it say?”

“Um… it says: ‘Perranth, be advised: Luca Scéalaí is one steely-eyed missile man.”

“Who is Luca Scéalaí?”

Alarms rang out around Mission Control. “Uh… Flight, Guidance.”

“Go Guidance.”

“The Lani is off course.”

That had him sitting up straighter in his chair and he leaned forward, “CAPCOM, tell Lani they’re drifting. Guidance, get a correction ready-“

“Negative Flight. They’ve adjusted course. Deliberate rotation.”

“What the hell? CAPCOM, ask Lani ‘what the hell’.”

“Roger Flight.”

“Guidance, calculate how long they can stay their course before it’s irreversible and someone figure out who in Hellas’ realm is Luca Scéalaí!”

Manon entered Weylan’s office and he made her wait as he stayed staring out the window.

“Asterin will go to the media and tell them of TNSB’s decision to reroute The Lani to Farnor.”

“Seems like a smart move,” she said mildly, picking at her nails. “Is there a reason you called me in here?”

“You may have killed the whole crew.”

“ _Whoever_ sent that to them only passed along information that was their right in the first place. The crew decided to switch course.”

Weylan turned to her, his face red with fury as he hissed, “We are fighting the same war, Manon! Every time something goes wrong, the world forgets why we fly. I am trying to keep us airborne, this whole program, the reason everyone here gets up and goes to work every day is bigger than one girl!”

“She is not a girl. She is a grown woman; how dare you belittle her right now? Aelin Galathynius is braver than anyone on any planet. No one in this agency is not better or bigger than her,” Manon answered, her voice dripping with cool condescension for her boss. “Especially not you.”

He straightened. “Once this is over, I expect your resignation.”

She just laughed coldly, “Yeah, we’ll see about that, won’t we, Weylan?”

“Get out of my sight.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Five hundred and thirty-three days extra? And you said _yes_ to this?”

Fenrys was attempting to placate his wife’s rage through the computer, but he remained unapologetic, “I did. She would’ve done the same for me, Mia, you know that.”

Nehemia scowled at him and traced a hand over her swollen stomach, “You really think I am going to forgive you for this and knocking me up with your demon spawn before you left for a year and a half?” 

Fenrys grinned at her, “I do. Look at this face, no one can stay mad at me for long.” His grin was blinding and Nehemia sighed, pressing her lips together to suppress her grin. The smile won and Fenrys’ only grew wider, “There she is.” He didn’t think he liked anything more than seeing Nehemia smile like that at him. 

Nehemia lifted her hand to the screen and he mirrored her. “Bring her home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see i told you it would be ok


	8. Chapter 8

“Commander, Rukhin probe approaching.”

“Copy that, Major. Ready for docking.”

Elide had her headset on and was in the rec room, wearing Lorcan’s hoodie and a pair of his sweats, anxiously watching out the window as he guided the probe into the docking station, tethered to the outside of the ship in his extravehicular - EVA - suit.

Everyone else was on the flight deck, but she wasn’t needed there. As she fiddled with her ring, her brows knitting together, she listened to Lorcan, “Probe has docked. Looking good, Major.”

“Roger that, Commander.” Fenrys’ voice was cool and smooth – this was really where he thrived. “And… docking is complete. Nice work everyone.”

There were a few quiet cheers and Elide let out a long breath, smiling softly and waving at Lorcan as he caught her gaze and bowed as best as he could in outer space. She giggled and pressed her hand to the glass, “We got it, guys.” Elide kept her eyes on him and she could make out two dimples on his cheeks - a smile just for her. 

Fenrys let loose a howl and soon, they were all joining in, their frayed nerves soothed by the success.

Aelin was sitting on top of the modified rover-wagon. It looked like a Blackbeak caravan made of billion-dollar equipment. Her eyes found the teeny tiny camera in her helmet and she addressed it, speaking thoughtfully. “It’s now day four-sixty-one.” She nodded to the hill a few kilometres away, “The FAV’s just over that hill. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on my drive. Well, it was either that or panic about the decaying radioactive battery riding shotgun so…”

She trailed off, looking at the red sand hills. “There’s this treaty that says that no country can lay claim on any land that’s not on Earth. TNSB owns the hab, and these rovers. But the second I step out of either one, there’s this other treaty that states if you aren’t in any country’s territory, maritime land applies. Which means that Farnor is international waters.”

She hopped down, eyes roving over the load vehicles that carried all that was keeping her alive. The oxygenator, the atmosphere regulator, the water reclaimer, and hundreds of frozen cooked potatoes were all squared away. Aelin had never been this organized; Elide would be proud. “Now, I’m travelling from the Anascaul crater to Mistward.

“I’ve crossed international waters to commandeer a vehicle and no one explicitly gave me permission to do so, so technically, that makes me a pirate.”

A wicked grin split her face in two, “A space pirate.”

Eventually, the rover had charged and Aelin was back in the driver’s seat, steadily making her way over the last three kilometres. It was a weird feeling.

Everywhere she went, she was the first. Billions of years and now… Aelin. The only person who had ever been alone on a planet. She didn’t like to think of it too much, it caused her heart to grow with an ache she couldn’t place and winded her under the knowledge that she could very well never make it off the face of this earth. 

“Sartaq?”

The rocket scientist looked up at Gavriel, slightly grainy through the video call, “Oh, Gavriel. Hi.”

“Hi,” Gavriel answered him slowly, apprehensive. “Is everything alright?”

Sartaq and Manon, from her perch on the edge of his desk, exchanged a wary look before Sartaq answered, “We just want to start this off by saying you won’t like it.”

Gavriel really, really didn’t want to know. “…what is it? Manon?”

The white-haired woman looked uneasy and unnerved, “Well, thing is…” she trailed off as Luca popped into the frame, scaring Gavriel halfway to an early grave.

“Oh, hey, man! What’s popping?”

“Hello, Luca, how are you?” 

“I’m great, my guy, this RPL lab is pretty dope and I got to see my dads so that’s pretty sick – thanks for flying me out and everything.”

“Luca. The plan?” Manon prompted him, her exasperation clear. Gavriel was sure the only reason Luca was still alive was that Manon had found a new pet in him, as if that terrifying snake of hers – Abraxos – wasn’t enough.

“Right! Ok, so first things first, the FAV won’t have enough speed to zoom up to The Lani, you heard?” Sartaq, ever peaceful Sartaq, looked ready to strangle the boy. “Shit needs to be, like, a lot lighter. Five tonnes, to be exact.”

“You can do that?”

“‘T’s really not that complicado, I swear.” The astrodynamicist turned to the model of the FAV and began pulling things out, carelessly tossing them to the side. “We can get rid of five chairs, cause it’s just… Manon, what’s that chick’s name again?” He really didn’t mean any offence by it, he had a bad memory for names. It took him six months to remember Vaughan’s name and stop referring to him as ‘boss man’.

Manon just sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Aelin, Luca. Her name is Aelin.”

“Ooh, that do be kinda sick though,” was Luca’s response. “I can dig that.” He returned to the task at hand, “Then, the FAV is designed for five-hundred grams of Farnorian soil and rock samples, obviously, we won’t have that so we’re already speeding.”

Manon gave Gavriel a long-suffering look as Luca continued, “Then, we ditch life support, Aelin can just be in her heavy-duty suit-“

“EVA, Luca, we told you it’s EVA.”

“Whatever, she can be in it and we don’t need life support.”

Gavriel frowned, “How’s she going to fly the rocket if she’s in her EVA?”

“She won’t, Marama will remotely control it,” Manon told him bluntly.

“We’ve never had a remotely controlled manned ship before.” Luca’s face fell slightly and Gavriel hastily added, “but I’m excited for the opportunities… it presents.”

The boy’s face lit up again and he smiled, “Word, I feel you. This means we can get rid of the control panels and all that other stuff like telemetry, comms-“

“What. Remotely controlled with- with no backups?”

Manon nodded, “Yeah, we haven’t even got to the bad stuff.” Gavriel’s face paled and she turned to Luca, urging him on, “Go on, tell him.”

“We kinda… have to remove the nose airlock and the windows and the hull.”

The mission director choked, slamming his knee into the underside of his desk, “You want to send her into space without the front of her ship?” He addressed his words to Sartaq.

“The nose alone is four hundred grams.”

Gavriel stood up, spreading his arms, “You’re sending her into space without the front of her ship! A hole!”

“Mmm, not a hole, she can cover it with hab tarp.” Gavriel just hung his head in his hands as Sartaq continued, shooing Luca to the side, “The hull is really there to keep the air out, but Farnor’s atmosphere is so thin, she really won’t need that much streamlining.”

“You’re sending her into space under a tarp, Sartaq.”

“Yes.”

“There aren’t any other options, are there?”

“Nope.”

“Who wants to tell her?”

Manon shook her head, “That’s all you, Gav.”

Gavriel scowled, accusing her, “I thought you were Flight and Crew Director, Ms. Blackbeak.”

She just shrugged, “Best get to it. Aelin’s not a patient woman.”

Aelin was staring out the front window of the rover with a blank look as she ate her daily portion of rations. “I know what they’re doing. I know what they’re doing. They keep telling me that I’ll ‘travel faster than any person in the history of space’, like it’s a good thing, like it’ll distract me from the fucking LUNACY OF THEIR IDEA!”

She thought hard, “They’re sending me into space in a gods-damned convertible. Actually, it’s worse, because my controls are in Fenrys Marama’s hands. Fucking idiot didn’t even have enough sense to knock up his girl after what was originally a nineteen-month mission.”

Scowling at the dash, Aelin added, “By the way, when describing things like speed and velocity, physicists don’t use the word ‘fast’, ok? They’re just saying it in the hopes that I’ll like how it sounds. ‘Fastest person in space travel’. Well, you know what?”

Aelin drank from her water bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, “I do like it. I like it a lot, actually.”

With a heavy sigh, she shook her head and threw her hands up, “Alright, let’s do this.”

Aelin dropped the wrench on the floor of the hollowed-out FAV, an entertained gleam in her eyes. “Ok, that was really fun.” She looked up at the sky through the hole in the FAV, where the nose had once been, as if she would be able to spot The Lani, “I’m coming, guys. Wait for me, ok?”

Exhausted, Aelin carefully made her way down the hatch and hopped to the ground, walking slowly over to her caravan, ready for one last night.

The crew had been tense all day, jittery for the rescue. It had finally arrived and they were all in the flight deck as Lorcan read off the plans once more, “Faliq, you’ll SysOp the ascent, Marama – piloting The Lani. Lochan and Whitethorn, I want you at the airlock before she’s even begun countdown, got it?”

“Got it – I want her in the med bay immediately after intercept, she’ll probably be unconscious and may have internal bleeding.” There were so many other things she would need to be checked out for and Rowan had it all set up, every scenario planned out – even surgery.

Lorcan continued, “When we reach intercept, it’s on Whitethorn to get her. If anything, anything goes wrong, Lochan, you’re going out after them.”

“Copy that, Commander.”

“Alright. We ready?”

The only response was, “Yes, sir.”

“Roger that, crew. Let’s go get our girl, huh?” Big smiles were on everyone’s face as Fenrys and Lorcan let loose military whoops.

Manon slipped into the locked Mission Control, sliding into her seat beside Asterin and kissing her cousin’s brow as they prayed quickly. She snapped on her headset and reached for Asterin’s hand, holding tightly as she calmed herself and began flight, “Lani, this is Flight. You are good to go.”

Nesryn’s voice crackled through the comms, “Copy that, Flight. Lani is commencing de-acceleration… Engine alignment is perfect, fuel pressure green.”

The room let out a pent-up breath and Nesryn continued with her assessment, “Communications five by five…”

Lorcan spoke to Aelin, “About two minutes away, G-Money. How you feeling?” Everyone laughed at the nickname; it was beyond soothing for the stranded astronaut.

Her voice was broken and tight, “It’s good to hear your voice, Commander. Ready to get up to you guys.” Words failed her and she swallowed before continuing, “Thank you for coming back for me; I miss you.”

The crew chuckled tearfully and Lorcan answered her, “We miss you too, Ace. Remember, you’re facing twelve G’s, it’s ok if you pass out, yeah? You’re in Marama’s hands now.”

“Tell that dipshit no barrel-rolls.”

Lorcan’s laughter barked across the radios, “Scout’s honour. CAPCOM…”

Nesryn’s voice was filled with laughter, “Go.”

“Remote control…”

“Go,” said Fenrys.

“Recovery…”

Elide and Rowan answered simultaneously, “Go.”

And finally, “Pilot…”

“Go already, you bastard.”

“Copy that, Galathynius. Flight, this is Lani actual, we are go for launch and will proceed on schedule.” 

“Roger that, Lani. This is Flight, Mission control is a go, commencing in t-minus ten seconds,” Manon replied, utterly unashamed of the tears flowing down her cheeks. She reached over and turned on the timer controller, the countdown commencing.

Lorcan was overseeing the flight deck as they listened to the timer controller. “Marama?”

“Main engines start.”

“Copy. Faliq?”

“Clamps releasing… SysOps is a go.”

Aelin tensed in anticipation as the timer counted down and the crew began the plan. “See you in a few, Commander.”

The rocket blasted off and she was slammed back into her acceleration seat. The wind was knocked out of her, she couldn’t even gasp as the FAV launched with incredible force. The ship shook violently and she fought to remain conscious, her eyes fluttering shut.

The canvas ripped free of the hull and the comms picked up again, the crew’s words falling on deaf ears, Aelin was lost on them. “Velocity is seven-forty-one metres per second. Altitude one-three-five-oh…”

Lorcan shook his head, eyes flying over the screens, “That’s too low. Marama?”

“I know,” his voice tight as he struggled, “it’s fighting me—”

“Velocity eight-fifty, altitude one-eight-four three—”

Lorcan spoke into the radio, not daring to tear his eyes from the computer, “Galathynius? Galathynius do you copy?”

There was no answer and Nesryn said, “She’s still well below target.”

“How far?”

“Working on it… main shutdown in 3…2…1… Shutdown.”

Fenrys was fighting the controls, “Back to automatic guidance. Confirm shutdown.”

“Galathynius, do you read?”

Rowan’s voice came to life, “She just pulled twelve G’s on ascent, she’s probably passed out. Give her a few minutes, Flight Deck.”

“Copy that, Whitethorn.” Lorcan turned to Nesryn, “Faliq, what’s happening?”

The dark-haired woman took a moment to respond, “Intercept velocity will be eleven metres per second – Whitethorn?”

“I can make it work,” Rowan confirmed, determined.

“Roger, distance at intercept will be—” Nesryn went pale, feeling sick to her stomach. “We’ll be fifty-seven kilometres apart.”

Silence fell over the radios.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rowan said, “did you say fifty-seven kilometres? Kilometres?”

“Gods save her…” Fenrys whispered, a horrified look twisting his face.

Lorcan’s voice brought everyone back, “Keep it together. Work the problem. We got any power in the FAV?”

“Negative, Commander. Ditched the boosters to make launch weight.”

“Then we go to her. Faliq, time to intercept?”

“Thirty-eight minutes, seventeen seconds.”

“What happens if we point all our thrusters in the same direction,” he asked. “Marama?”

Fenrys did calculations in his head, tilting his chin up as he took in the remaining fuel levels. “Depends on how much fuel we want to save for course adjustments on the flight home.”

“And you need how much?”

“Mmm, I can get by on twenty percent of what we have left.”

“Faliq?”

Nesryn was already working on it and answered Lorcan quickly, “Using seventy-five point five of what’s left, I can completely close the altitude gap—”

“Do it.”

“Hang on, the intercept velocity will be forty-two metres per second.”

It was too fast, Rowan wouldn’t be able to grab her. Lorcan would deal with that in thirty-nine minutes, then. “We’ll figure it out. Marama, burn the jets.”

The ship lurched as Fenrys followed commands and the jets burned, boosting them forward.

A small voice was heard over the radio and Lorcan caught the last part of it, “…fuck you, Farnor.”

“Galathynius?!”

“Affir… affirmative, Commander.”

“Status.”

“Ch… chest hurts. Breathing hurts,” it was her ribs. Aelin had been flung around the FAV during her ascent. “How, how are you?”

Of course, Aelin was still worried about them. “We’re good, Pilot. Working to get to you. There was a complication during launch.”

Her voice was so weak, it broke Lorcan’s heart. “Yeah, the… canvas didn’t… didn’t hold.”

“That checks out, Galathynius.”

“…bad is it?” The radios were weaving in and out.

“Intercept range is perfect. We’re working on intercept velocity, there’s a problem.”

“How big?”

“Forty-two metres big.” Aelin didn’t respond and Nesryn checked the comms, indicating they were still good to go. “Aelin?”

“You know,” she began, as if they were having a casual conversation, “I watched all the Marvel movies you brought. My favourite’s Iron Man, are you surprised? I could find something sharp in here and pierced my EVA’s glove, as a thruster. The source is on my arm, so I can direct.”

Lorcan blinked a few times, not sure he’d heard her correctly, “Um, I don’t see you having any control over that – you’d be eyeballing and using a barely-controlled thrust vector.”

“All good points but consider this: I would get to fly around like Iron Man.”

Fenrys just shook his and laughed quietly, “We should’ve left her on Farnor.”

“Um, you did leave me on Farnor and Iron Man, Commander. Iron Man.”

“Ace, just shut up for a second, Hellas.” Lorcan looked at the far wall, “Maybe it’s not the worst idea.”

Fenrys shot him a look, incredulous, “You know, it actually is. The worst idea possible.” The rest of the crew chorused their agreement – it was ludicrous.

“No, not her idea, but using atmosphere as thrust.” Lorcan’s eyes widened, “Elide, El, El, El.”

“Yes?”

“No, not actually you, Nes, pull up El’s station.”

“It’s up – what do you need?”

Lorcan crossed his arms and leaned against the control desk, “I need to know what would happen if we blew the VAL.”

“…the vehicular airlock?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, it’d give us a good kick.”

“And blow off the nose of our ship. And all the air would leave. We need air, Lorcan,” Elide reminded him, “to not die.” He’s a mechanical engineer, for gods’ sakes. Shouldn’t he know this? Elide thought.

“Seal the bridge and reactor room. Everything else becomes a vacuum.”

“It would get intercept velocity down to thirteen metres per second,” Nesryn said, seeing the logic of his idea.

“How do we open the airlock doors, though? We can’t control them remotely and if anyone’s near them when it blows…”

“Lochan?”

“Yes?”

“Take off your spacesuit.”

“…why.”

“I need you to build a bomb.”

Aelin’s voice cut in before Elide could reply, “Wait, bomb? You’re exploding things…without me?”

They ignored her as Elide asked, “Come again, L?”

“You’re a chemist and a fucking weirdo – no offence, babe – can you make a bomb with what we have onboard?”

“None taken,” she quipped, “I’m obligated to tell you that setting off an explosive device on a spacecraft is a terrible, terrible idea.”

“Copy. Can you do it?”

Elide thought for a few seconds, “Yeah, I can do it.”

“Good, get going. Faliq, meet Lochan in the rec room and transport the bomb to Whitethorn – I want you to meet Faliq at airlock and attach the bomb to the inner door of airlock one Then, make your way back to airlock two along the hull, copy?”

“Copy.”

“Perranth, be advised: we are going to deliberately breach the VAL to produce thrust.”

Before Mission Control could answer, Aelin piped up, “Commander, I can’t let you do this. You see, I’m selfish – all the memorials back home should be about me. I don’t need any of you losers ruining my rep.” She panted, “Call it off.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, if you want us to call it off, then I guess we have to- oh wait… wait a minute. Yep. I’m looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out I’m Commander. So shut up.”

“Fu…fucking smart ass.”

Nesryn entered the rec room, spying Elide where she was pouring a bag of sugar into a beaker. “Bomb?”

“Yup.” Elide couldn’t speak much, she was pretty busy at the moment. She still managed to tell Nesryn about her project, “In a pure oxygen environment, it’ll release sixteen point seven million Joules for every kilo of sugar used. Eight times stronger than a stick of dynamite.”

“Neith above, you terrify me.”

Elide grinned evilly, looking like a mad scientist as she poured pure oxygen into the beaker and screwed the cap on, doing something with stripped copper wires. “She’s ready.” Elide carefully passed the bomb over to Nesryn, “Run this to the lighting panel, ok?”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The bomb was set and everything was in place. They braced for the thrust as an explosion rocked the ship, sending them backwards.

As the ship stabilized, Fenrys, Nesryn, Elide, and Lorcan, scrambled back to their spots and Fenrys swore, “It’s still too far, three-hundred metres?”

“Oh, great,” Aelin commented, “I’ll just wave at you as I fly by.”

“Bridge seal is holding, Commander, first inspections reads minimal damage.”

“Copy that, Whitethorn, where are you?”

“I’m in airlock two, Commander, in the MMU and going for intercept on your command.” Rowan would have to go after her in the Manned Maneuvering Unit - MMU for short.

“Roger that, go recovery.” They were still too far, “Faliq, what’s our-“

“Lorcan. I’m doing it,” Aelin said, her voice hard. Before anyone knew what was happening, there came a hissing sound and Aelin soared through the FAV’s nose, one arm stretched towards them and the other behind her like Iron Man. She struggled to keep upright and kicked her legs.

“Shit, Faliq, current velocity?” They were all of the edges of their seats.

“Calculating… twelve metres per second… seven metres per second… five point two… three point one,” her heart was in her throat as she watched the rescue.

“Distance to target?”

“Ten metres.” 

Rowan’s heart cracked as the distance was told, he could reach her, he could get to her. The tether was long enough.

She looked to him, those brilliant eyes of hers grounding him. Rowan angled the controls to her, jerking back in the MMU when the tether pulled taut. What, no no no. It was caught, it had to be caught, he was sure of it. “Fuck, fuck,” Elide was on her way to the airlock but she wouldn’t be able to help. She was still too far. “The tether, it’s caught on something - it’s caught.” 

He saw it in Aelin’s eyes as she heard him and she smiled at him. He hated the smile, soft and accepting. It was her goodbye. 

“It’s ok, Ro,” she said, acceptance in her words, “let me go.”

“No. No,” he shouted the word over and over, not believing it. “Aelin, no, you can’t do this-“

“It’s ok, Rowan. Let me go.”

“I’m not letting you go – we didn’t get any time-“ his breath hitched as tears grew in his chest, “I love you, you can’t let go.”

There was nothing anyone could do. Aelin had made up her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe sowwy bubs


	9. Chapter 9

Rowan wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t doing anything but fighting against the tether as Aelin let go in every way possible.

Aelin was so tired. She was _so_ gods-damned tired. “It’s ok, Ro, I’m ok-“

“Don’t let go, you can’t let go!” He couldn’t live without her. He’d done it for over a year and he couldn’t – _refused_ to do it again. “You’re not letting go, Ae, don’t you dare let go.”

The comms were silent save for his yells and Aelin’s soft reassurance. The crew was sitting in a horrified silence as they listened, powerless to change her mind.

Nesryn’s gaze was locked on the computer screen, feeling queasy as the distance grew smaller and smaller. She didn’t want to interrupt Rowan’s concentration, but, “Distance to target – seven metres.”

She was so close, Aelin was so close and upon hearing the distance, she half-sobbed, keeping her arm reached out to Rowan as the tether slipped free and he blasted towards her, desperately reaching as their hands brushed against each other’s and she was in his arms seconds later. “Ro,” she croaked, smiling so widely as their helmets knocked together.

“Aelin,” he said, tears blurring his vision. “I got her.” Cheers erupted throughout the comms and Mission Control. “I got her.”

“Lochan, bring them in,” said Lorcan, a smile on his face that no one but Elide ever saw.

“Copy that, Commander.” The MMU moved backwards and Aelin clung harder to Rowan, closing her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks and she smiled. It seemed the gods had finally answered her prayers.

Everyone was waiting in the inner airlock as they floated in. Aelin waved to them through the window as the outer door closed and Rowan helped her snap her helmet off. The door hissed and Elide was the first one to reach her, the others hanging back – letting the sisters have a minute. Lorcan could just make out Elide’s threats through her tears, “…ever do that shit again, I’ll kill you.”

Aelin laughed and groaned, “Don’t make me laugh, my ribs are broken.”

Elide let go of her, wiping the blonde’s tears away before the rest of the crew swarmed her, enveloping her in a snug hug, careful to not squeeze too hard. Nobody mentioned what Rowan had confessed, just so unbelievably happy to have their girl back.

Nobody knew how long it was until they reluctantly let go and moved as one to the medical bay, waiting anxiously as Rowan checked her out. With a smile, he lifted his head, letting the stethoscope down, “You’re good, Ace. Ribs are broken and I’ll set you up with an IV and might need a feeding tube to replenish the calories you’re missing, but you’re good.”

The crew let out a relieved breath and Rowan relayed the information to Manon. Aelin waggled her brows at Lorcan and Elide, who were standing by the door. Elide was leaning back against Lorcan’s front, his hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. “So, is there going to be mini Lorcan or Elide at the wedding?”

Elide groaned, their sex life was something the crew had always loved to tease them about, “Anneith below, why did we come back for you?” Lorcan just winked at Aelin and bent down to whisper to Elide, nipping at the soft shell of her ear. Her cheeks turned pink as she elbowed him in the stomach as a response, “You’re disgusting. Both of you.” A sly grin grew over her lips as Aelin and the rest of the crew cackled.

Rowan chuckled and knelt, searching for a roll of gauze to wrap her ribs. “You’re gonna need to strip, so…” he arched a brow and she nodded.

“Bye, guys,” she told the rest of the crew. They all got up from their various positions and waved goodbye to her, hesitant to leave, as if she would slip away again. “I’ll be fine. _Go_ ,” she shooed them away, smiling softly as they left and the door clicked shut behind them.

Silent as he worked, Rowan ignored the feeling of her gaze burning into him as he wrapped her ribs, “How’s that feel?”

Aelin breathed in slowly, it was snug. “Good, really sore still.”

“If it’s still sore later, let me know, I can get you-“

“You love me?”

Her words had him choking and looking up from the IV he was preparing. “I-I…”

“I heard you, buzzard. Was it a lie to get me to hold on?” A heartbreaking light fractured her eyes and Rowan cursed himself, quick to shake his head.

“What? Gods, no, it wasn’t a lie, Ae.” He floundered, searching for the right words, “I know… we didn’t always get along very well and I was an ass, but I love you.” He waited for her response, tensing as he prepared to hear the worst. When she stayed silent, his brain short wired and he began rambling, “I’ve loved you for years, Aelin. Gods, you drive me crazy and sometimes I didn’t know if I wanted to kill you or kiss you because you’re _you_. You’re the smartest person I know and you’re completely unapologetic for it. You’re curious. You want to know everything about the world and I-“

She stopped him by pressing her fingers to his mouth, “Shut up.” His stomach fell at the two words before she whispered, “I love you. So much.”

“You do?”

“Most ardently, Rowan Whitethorn.” Tears were caught in her lashes and he gently cupped her face, swiping his thumb under her eye to catch the drops.

“Why do you cry, Fireheart?” Aelin fell further every time he called her that.

“Because I was lost and I didn’t know the way.”

“And now?” He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, the tip of her nose cold against his.

“I’ve been found.” And never to be lost again. He would follow her to the ends of the universe and whatever they found after it.

“Stop staring at me,” Aelin said, already tired of everyone’s mothering. She slowly chewed on her pasta, using most of her energy to keep it down. “I’m fine.”

When she snapped her head up, glaring at everyone, they all held her gaze, arching their brows as if to say she’d have to try harder than that. Lorcan laughed quietly, “Can you really blame us? You can barely keep your plain noodles down.” Rowan shot him a look and Lorcan read what was happening, a satisfied gleam entering his dark eyes. “Ah. Well, not to be blunt or anything but gods above, fucking finally.”

Fenrys and Elide hooted. Nesryn was able to control herself more and smiled fondly, as if they were children, nodding once and returning to her meal.

Rowan near growled and his brother just cocked his head to the side and smirked, “At least we didn’t bet on it.” Elide turned in his lap and smacked his chest, glaring at him. He just shrugged, _Am I wrong?_

“You’re awful, all of you,” Rowan seethed, calming as Aelin patted his knee. He gave her a secret smile and then blushed when she returned it, lifting her hand and kissing the back of her knuckles.

“Oh good gods, my eyes! Premarital affection!” Fenrys cried out, grabbing Nesryn’s hand to cover his eyes. 

Everyone promptly ignored him and smiled softly to themselves, exchanging amused glances at Aelin and Rowan’s expense.

After dinner, they all lingered, explicitly rejecting Aelin’s request that they ‘cease and desist being overprotective mother hens’. Finally, Aelin bluntly told them to leave before she started kicking ass and they all dispersed, humouring her. She watched her sister and commander leave together, no longer feeling that same aching sense in her chest. 

Lorcan tugged Elide along, whispering low enough that Aelin couldn’t hear it. Elide gave him a fond look, tangling her fingers in his and pulling him behind her, their joyful laughter floating along as they disappeared from view. 

Aelin turned, spying Rowan a little ways away, watching her. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he replied smoothly, finally making his way over to her. Rowan rolled his eyes when she lifted her arms and he scooped her up, holding her against his chest as he walked to the couch and sat down. 

Her eyes were begging to be closed but still she kept them open, tracking over Rowan’s face as he gazed out the windows. Eventually, he slid his gaze to her, a brow quirked up. “What?” 

She shook her head, her throat tight, “I just… I would have these dreams that you were right there with me. And we were so happy-” her breath hitched and he opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t need to hear this right now but she _needed_ to tell him this. “We were so happy and then I would wake up and not be able to sleep again because I thought I would never get to tell you that I love you.”

A tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek as she slid her fingers across his face, feeling the contours of his features, the smoothness of tattoo ink. “You’re real.” 

Rowan nodded, tracing a comforting pattern over her side, “I am.” 

His eyes were like liquid emeralds as she met his gaze and tilted her chin up, so soft as she brushed her lips against his. Rowan sucked in a sharp breath as she pulled away, still close enough to touch his lips if either of them spoke. 

Aelin didn’t know how long they had been trapped in that moment until his lips were on hers again, gentle and tender, but strong, full. A gasp escaped her as she gave into the feeling, her long lashes brushing against his cheeks as her eyes fluttered shut. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, using every ounce of strength in her weak body to hold herself to him as their lips moved against each other’s. When his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, she opened for him, tasting his soft groan at the first brush of her tongue against his. 

Kissing him was like a breath of fresh air, the first real breath she’d inhaled since the rescue. Aelin still wasn’t convinced, was sure that if she moved too quickly, it would all disappear. Again. 

But it was real, the feeling of his hair tangled in her hands grounding her to the moment as she threatened to float away. 

Somebody coughed and they broke apart, chests heaving, gazes wide and pupils dilated. Aelin looked over Rowan’s shoulder, spying Lorcan and Fenrys standing there. “What, in Hellas’ cold and dark realm, do you want?” 

“Oh, nothing, just in the _communal_ area, getting some tea before bed, don’t mind us” Lorcan replied, a shit-eating grin on his face. He took one step forward and smirked at the look on Rowan’s face as he turned to glare at Lorcan and Fenrys. “On second thought, it’s late, probably not a good idea to have caffeine. Have fun, you two.” 

“But not too much fun,” Fenrys yelled as they left, snickering the entire way. They were almost gone when Lorcan’s wolf whistle pierced the air and he howled, the sounds amplified by Fenrys’ roaring laughter. 

“We’re surrounded by animals,” Rowan muttered, his frown melting as Aelin smiled at him. “I hate them.” 

He pressed his forehead against hers, kissing away the tears that streaked down her cheeks. She only cried harder, “Buzzard.”

“Fireheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see! i *told* you it'd be fine!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to wait to post but i couldn't help myself!

Lorcan carefully extracted himself from Elide’s sleeping form. She whined in her slumber and swatted the air, trying to find him again. Though she had her own sleeping cabin, more often than not, she found herself in his. They both preferred to sleep together and neither minded the snug fit.

As he crept quietly, not wanting to disturb any of the sleeping crewmates on his bathroom run, he noticed that Aelin’s door was open and popped his head in. He whispered, “Ace?” There was no one there.

Logically, she was going to the bathroom, not missing in space again, but his pulse still raced and he cursed quietly, closing the door so that if anyone else woke up, they wouldn’t notice anything was amiss. He wanted to find her, for his sake and hers, but he really had to take a leak so after he had dealt with that, Lorcan set off through the ship's zero-gravity corridor.

After blowing the vehicular airlock during Aelin’s rescue, the ship was much smaller and it didn’t take him long to poke through the remaining rooms.

It didn’t take a genius, which they all were, to see that Aelin wasn’t the same. Her oddities were something they all collectively ignored, knowing she was silently berating herself for not being as she once was. Honestly, it broke their hearts to see her panic at the amount of food on her plate and struggle to stop herself from checking their supplies. It broke their hearts to see her slip away when they were all together, unable to handle the attention.

They were trying, really, they were, to not overwhelm her and keep their distance, even Rowan at times.

No one thought it would be easy once they got her back, but… Gods, it was all a mess, one that no one knew how to muddle through. Certainly not Aelin. She was just trying to get through the days, one at a time.

Lorcan shook his head to rid it of his spiralling thoughts as he slid down the ladder to the rec room and turned, finding Aelin at the back of the ship, looking out the windows. “Ace?”

She whirled quickly at his voice, her hands shaking as she let out a breathless laugh, “You scared me. Hi.”

“Hey,” he said smoothly, walking slowly over to her. “Everything ok?” She’d probably say that it was and they would both ignore the blatant lie.

“No.”

Her answer shocked him, but he controlled himself, keeping his face neutral as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweats, nodding his head once, twice. What shocked him was not what she said, but that she’d said it at all. Finally, someone was getting the truth. “Want to talk?”

“Lorcan Salvaterre, are you going soft on us? Asking someone to talk about their  _ feelings _ ?” Aelin teased him.

Lorcan humoured her by huffing a dry laugh and tilting his head to the side as he reached the windows and leaned back against them. “So?”

Aelin breathed out shakily and wiped her eyes, “Yeah, um. I don’t… I don’t know anything anymore. It all feels so fake?”

After he’d come home from deployment, he’d felt the same thing. It was like there was a glass separating him and everyone else. “I remember that.”

“You do?”

His time spent serving wasn’t something he tended to discuss openly. Lorcan nodded again, “Yeah, I served for a couple tours. I was discharged after eight years due to ‘hardship’.” He let out a humourless laugh, “I guess being held as a prisoner of war three months is classified as a ‘hardship’.”

Aelin’s eyes were wide, “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be. It’s not your problem, G,” he assured her. “I just want you to know that it’s ok to not be alright right now. No one is expecting you to be and don’t be hard on yourself because you’re not what you once were.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled ruefully, “Easier said than done, Commander.”

Lorcan smiled, “Yeah, it really is.” He tilted his head to the table and she nodded. They silently walked over to it and sat down on opposite sides.

“So,” she began, clasping her hands on the surface before her, “are you better now?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘better’. Before… it was really bad. Couldn’t get out of bed, didn’t eat or drink. Could barely be around anyone else.” He stared at the table, “It’s not like that anymore, but… not every day is a good one.”

“What did you do? To make it go away?”

Lorcan looked at her for a few seconds, analyzing something. “Essar yelled at me one day. Near broke down my door and chewed me out for ignoring her and being a dick. Said just because I was going through a shit time didn’t mean I could be shitty to everyone who tried to help.” The corners of his mouth tugged up, “And then she roped in Elide. Your sister’s the scariest person I know.”

“You’re telling  _ me _ that? You know how many times I had to physically restrain her from fighting anyone who dared insult me in her presence?”

They both laughed quietly. Elide was one of their safe subjects, one they literally never fought over, now. In the beginning, Aelin had been a bit… territorial and protective. After they calmed, Lorcan got serious again, “That’s not all it took. I had to work to improve and still do. You just gotta find something that makes you want to fight, Aelin. You need to fight every fucking day, every time that voice in your mind tells you you should give up now, or that no one cares. Because it’s wrong, ok? Do you think we would’ve come back for you if we didn’t care?”

Aelin ducked her head, hiding her tears. “I asked you a question, Aelin.”

She slowly rose her head, eyes of blue and gold meeting ones of pure obsidian, forged from the same raging monster that dwelled inside both of them. “No.” He nodded, that one small and satisfied grin on his lips. Despite herself, it filled her with a warming sense of pride.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re still up?”

“I had a dream. And all of this,” she waved her hand around, indicating the past year and a half, “hadn’t happened and we were on our way  _ to  _ Farnor. I just- I needed to see that we were leaving it all behind.” She dropped her hands in her lap and looked down at her fingernails, all bitten down to the quick. “I’m just so tired all the time.”

“Probably cause you’re not sleeping and it’s, like, three am.”

Aelin laughed, “Gods, you’re an asshole.”

He smiled and drawled, his tone dry, “So I’ve been told. Alright,” he clapped his hands, “if you’re not going to sleep, might as well watch a movie. Where’s my laptop?” Lorcan stood and walked over to the wall of compartments, reaching up high to his personal drawer. He pulled down his personal computer and moved to the couch area, putting it down on the table.

She still hadn’t moved and Lorcan looked over his shoulder, “Well, come on. Your choice between  _ Ant-Man  _ or  _ Guardians of the Galaxy _ .”

“Wow, so many options,” Aelin commented as she made her way over to the couch and sat down, curling her legs under her.

Lorcan glanced at her before turning back to the screen, “Elide sits just like that.”

“You really love her,” said Aelin. Lorcan froze and slowly looked at her, his brows furrowing. “It’s good. She deserves someone like you. And  _ Guardians of the Galaxy _ .”

He smiled, “You got it.” Soon, the movie was playing and they sat in a comfortable silence, understanding that what they had been talking about was done for now and they would continue on later. “Rowan really loves you too, Ace.”

She slowly turned to look at him but didn’t say anything until Lorcan elaborated. “I know you two had your moment or whatever, but he’s completely gone for you.”

A smitten smile pulled at her lips and Lorcan just had to pop her bubble, “Plus, he has a thing for know-it-all blondes.” Aelin choked and shoved his shoulder, to which Lorcan said, “Hey! This is veteran abuse.”

“You’re such a dick,” she grumbled, frowning as she snuggled into his side. Lorcan just laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. After a few minutes where they watched the movie in silence, she whispered, “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t think you will.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure Rowan’s ever wanted anything more than this,” Lorcan told her, resting his chin on the top of her head. “He’s waited all this time for you, he doesn’t mind waiting a little longer.”

And neither did Aelin.

“Lani, this is Flight, waiting for confirmation.”

“Copy Flight, Lani actual is ready for re-entry and landing.”

“Roger that Lani. Beginning re-entry countdown,” Manon said, her voice staticky through the headset.

Everyone was strapped into their seats, ready for landing. The timer controller turned on and the robotic tone began counting down from ten. Wordlessly, Aelin held her hand, palm up, to Rowan. He stared at her hand for a moment before gently taking it and squeezing once.

The ship shook as it was remotely piloted back into Earth’s gravity. Aelin closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, repeating soothing inhales and exhales as she felt the re-entry.

“Lani, Flight – the Thresher has confirmed it is ready for pick-up.”

“Copy, Flight.”

The metal beast rattled as the boosters detached and hurtled to the ocean, far far below them still. Aelin knew that the craft would be burning right now, but with the heat shield and their temperature-controlled suits, no one could feel a thing.

As the free-fall continued for a few minutes or so, Aelin gripped Rowan’s hand harder, tensing as the craft jerked back – the parachutes. Their descent slowed and an indeterminate amount of time later, they crashed into the ocean. The pontoons that were set off kept them afloat as they all checked in with each other, assuring that everyone was ok.

The mood was vivid and excited as a hissing sound filled the craft and the door popped open, the sun blinding. “You guys lost or something?”

Lorcan and Fenrys let out shocked cries, “Corsario?”

“The one and only,” the man replied, a smug grin splitting his face in two. His sea green eyes sparkled as he and his crew helped them out of the ship and onto the motored boat that would take them to the Thresher, Terrasen’s Navy’s amphibious transport docking ship.

“Guys, this is Rolfe Corsario, we were all in boot camp together,” Lorcan explained, gesturing between him, Fenrys, and Rolfe. The sailor held out his hand to help Aelin into the boat and she noticed that his brown skin was covered in tattoos that resembled maps. Aelin held onto his hand even after she sat down, trying to get a better look.

“Ah, can’t let you do that,” he said, pulling his hand from her grasp before hopping neatly down and sitting by the motor.

“Why not?” The whole crew, save for Lorcan and Fenrys who just rolled their eyes, leaned in to listen.

Fenrys cut in before Rolfe could answer her, “They’re not for mortal eyes.” He received a quick swat to the back of his head before Rolfe turned to her.

“They’re Mycenian markings. Can’t let outsiders see them,” he said with a wink and lazy grin as he steered the boat to the Thresher.

“They’re on your hands, dipshit,” Lorcan said, twisting his helmet off and tossing it by his feet. “Anyone can see them.”

“I’m going to ignore that and still let you onto my ship.”

One by one, the astronauts popped their helmets off and sighed at the cool ocean breeze. Aelin closed her eyes, tilting her head back up to the sun just as a shadow passed over her and she frowned, opening her eyes to find that they had arrived at the ship.

Elide offered to let Aelin go up the ladder first but the blonde shook her head, waiting until she was the last one on the boat. Taking a deep breath, Aelin stepped up to the ladder and nodded to herself, stepping on the first rung.

She froze and looked to the side, seeing Rolfe waiting patiently. He dipped his chin once, “Welcome back.”

Aelin had requested that no media be there when the plane touched down in Orynth. The thought of being the centre of attention, in a media hailstorm, had her feeling queasy.

TNSB had complied and when she stepped off the plane, the only people she saw were a handful of TNSB employees, the scientists who had brought her home.

The second she saw a flash of moon-white hair and another of yellow-gold, she let out an undignified squeal and ran, blatantly ignoring Weylan and Gavriel to launch herself at Manon and Asterin. They laughed and hugged her tight.

“So, what does it take for you to get Darrow’s job,” Aelin muttered, the question directed at Manon.

The white-haired woman shrugged as Asterin cackled, “He wants to fire her.”

Aelin pulled back, “What! Why, what’d you do?”

Manon just shrugged again and flipped her hair over her shoulder, “I might’ve leaked some confidential flight plans to Elide. He didn’t appreciate that.”

“Gods, I missed you two,” Aelin breathed, hugging them close again. “Thanks for getting me home.” The back of her throat ached with tears and she wiped her eyes.

Eventually, the rest of her crew caught up with her and they exchanged professional greetings with both Weylan and Gavriel. The cold disdain for the director of TNSB was palpable and Elide gently patted Lorcan’s arm, speaking in Blackbeak as she told him, “Stop frowning at him. Weylan’s about to shit himself.”

He chuckled darkly as Manon and Asterin cackled once more. Asterin surveyed her boss, who was talking with Nesryn a few metres away, “I bet he will.”

“Ten bucks?”

“Are we children,” Aelin asked, an unimpressed arch to her brows, “Ten’s too low, I say we go for the big bucks.” They continued with their childish banter as some frazzled-looking woman herded them off the tarmac and into headquarters.

Aelin lingered outside, eyes on the sky. The woman tried to get her attention, but Rowan said he’d wait for her and catch up later.

The sun’s glare became too bright for her eyes and she blinked hard, pivoting neatly to the door, where she found Rowan. A smile grew on her face and she walked quickly to his side, tucking herself under his arm and into his side. “Waiting for me again, are we?”

She grabbed his hand and tugged him behind her, only to be sent backwards when he didn’t move. “Ro, what are you- oh!” He settled his hand on her waist and tipped her chin back, green eyes swimming with too much and not enough all at once.

“For you, Fireheart,” he murmured, tracing his thumb over the apple of her cheek, “for you I’d wait forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap! thank you all who read and stuck with me on this lil thang!


End file.
